Grieving a Principle

The overturning of DOMA and effective demise of Proposition 8 in California this week at the hands of the United States Supreme Court bring about a critical moment of justice for those who have been aggrieved for many years: the couples and families who have been denied benefits, access, inheritance shelters, and countless other protections and privileges granted not only to spouses but to their heirs by the government.

Those grievances are real, tangible, documented, and damaging. And they have exacted an emotional and spiritual toll from our LGBT sisters and brothers that will take significant time and effort to remediate and heal. And thousands of other families and couples remain at the crossroads in states that have yet to recognize their most hallowed relationships. There remains much work to be done before their grievances, too, are redressed.

What I question here is the ongoing “grievances” of same-sex marriage opponents, particularly at this late hour. Br. Tobias Haller takes on the whining memo of the Roman Catholic Conference of Bishops, for example. 

Compelling to me is the Supreme Court’s decision in Hollingsworth vs. Perry to deny standing to the advocates of Proposition 8. Kennedy’s dissent, together with the prevailing opinion, makes for an interesting study in what constitutes a real grievance under law (beyond mere disagreement – even if expressed by a voting majority over and against a minority). At bottom is a fundamental question that has been bubbling for me to the surface of this longstanding debate in our Church and culture over marriage:

Who is really aggrieved when a same-sex couple choose to marry?

I suppose, like the Roman bishops, we can argue that some kind of principle – biblical or traditional – is aggrieved. I will leave alone the implied or explicit theological hubris that often quickly follows: that God, therefore, must be offended. But here is where Christian orthodoxy meets the wisdom of secular jurisprudence in the United States: Ours is an incarnational faith, not a theoretical one. Real grievance of the kind we are called to address is the kind that shows up not merely in our principles or theological structures, let alone merely in the taking of personal offense. My grandmother was always fond of saying that there is no accounting for taste!

Real grievance shows up in the tangible, physical effects on the lives of God’s people. The gospels are replete with examples of Jesus making moral argumentation not on theoretical grounds, but on matters that tangibly effect the lives of his followers and audience.  He seems most offended by religious authority asserting theory over practice (a form of hypocrisy), and perhaps even worse, practice or its imposition in the name of God that tangibly brings suffering and injustice upon the people.

And for that reason, Christian morality is most real in this matter only where people suffer not merely an internal violation of their moral principles by the life decisions of others, but an external restriction from sharing in the abundance of God’s creation: love, liberty, dignity, and even such tangible graces as succor, shelter, and food – basics that marriage as an institution can sometimes help ensure.

Standing failed in the Proposition 8 decision because the parties bringing appeal to the Supreme Court could not demonstrate how they had been tangibly harmed by the lower courts’ overturning of the initiative. It is even greater justice that Judge Vaughn Walker’s brilliant and cutting 2010 decision over the fate of Proposition 8 at the District Court level now can stand on its own, especially in the ways it clearly shows the tangible harm Prop 8 wrought on same-sex couples. It is that harm – real and measurable, not merely theoretical – that violates the Constitution and, I would argue on separate yet coinciding grounds, true Christian morality.

Again, Proposition 8 has been shown to be the hollow victory it was – purchased, incidentally, at not only great expense, but by cynically appealing to a most base side of the body politic in California. It is not enough to claim offense and enshrine it into law, even while hiding it behind a hallowed, basic democratic process like a referendum.

The real lesson I wish some of our sisters and brothers would carry forward from this week is that simple appeals to principle or mere assertions about what marriage is will not do. This threadbare, rationally vacuous approach clearly avails little in civil jurisprudence. Nor should it be given any truck in thoroughgoing Christian moral argument.

Grieving a principle is a far cry from the realities of human suffering that our Savior came to address.

Show me precisely how same-sex couples sharing equivalency of rights and privileges tangibly harm my “traditional” marriage, and then we have a starting point for conversation. 

(But as we say in the Midwest: Good luck with that!)

The Witness to Humanity

David Kato, voice for the voiceless, martyr for the marginalized, bore Christian witness for persecuted sexual minorities in Uganda and wider Africa.

His brutal murder echoes across the Anglican Communion, reminding us what is truly at stake in the controversies of these past years: lives, dignity, and a Gospel too often distorted by fear, prejudice, and hatred.

As with the martyrs of centuries past, Kato's voice seems to have more power in death than in life. An editorial in Uganda's largest independent newspaper shows a remarkable and undeniable shift is beginning, even in the face of dehumanizing legislation.

Kato is yet another witness among many who brings fresh meaning to the cross, and to Paul's unmistakable hope in Romans 14:8 -

If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s.

May David's soul, the the souls of all the faithful departed, rest in peace.

Hands to the Plow

Jesus, the Anglican Communion, and LGBT Pride Day

Sermon for Proper 8
RCL Lectionary, Year C

2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14 / Psalm 77:1-2, 11-20 / Galatians 5:1, 13-25 / Luke 9:51-62

The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost
June 27th, 2010

The Episcopal Church of Our Saviour
Mill Valley, California

Audio

Jesus, in good rabbinical fashion, offers us a series of shocking sayings today – sayings to shake us, his followers, out of our complacency. Sayings to awaken us to the bracing message of the Gospel. While he turns his face stubbornly towards Jerusalem ( much to everyone’s consternation and distress) he holds up a mirror to us, a mirror that reflects back to us our reluctance, our second-guessing, our hesitancy to live into the fullness of his message, of his Way.

We wrestle, as followers of Christ, with the same things Jesus’ would-be followers wrestled with. We have obligations – obligations to family, to tradition, to institution, to the pressing needs and concerns of our worldly lives. We spook easily at change, we blanch at difference, we resist the challenge those outside our doors pose to us, we seek safety in what we know and fear what we don’t. Jesus deliberately shakes up his hearers and us, shocks us out of our comfort and into a vulnerable, itinerate place – the place of ongoing journey, the fragility of raw humanity on a dusty road, even staring into the face of darkness, death, and dissolution. Only in that way will we “get,” both literally and figuratively, the Gospel. Only in that way, he reminds us, will we fully find God.

Some of you might have heard about our most recent Anglican dust-up. After a series of dueling Pentecost Letters, The Archbishop of Canterbury recently dismissed representatives of The Episcopal Church from Anglican Communion ecumenical councils as a consequence of our consecrating an openly lesbian Bishop in Los Angeles. This led in turn to an uncomfortable conversation between our Church's Executive Council and the Communion's Secretary General. Just where are we and who are we now as The Episcopal Church in the Anglican Communion? No one’s quite sure just yet. We’re well into uncharted territory, and clear answers are hard to come by.

As if that weren't enough to mull over on its own, our Presiding Bishop was visiting the cathedral in Southwark in the Church of England in recent weeks, when she was instructed by the office of the Archbishop of Canterbury to not only provide evidence of her ordination status (despite her numerous previous visits), but was told to refrain from wearing her mitre, her pointed bishop’s hat, during the liturgy, because the Church of England is in a very fragile state at the moment as they consider yet again the consecration of women bishops.

Coming at such a raw time for everybody, you can well imagine the result was an ugly all-to-public episode in trans-Atlantic ecclesiastical diplomacy that has become known as "mitregate.” It brought great embarrassment for many in the Church of England, and provoked appeals to 1776 on this side of the Atlantic! Our Presiding Bishop, to her credit, was quite courteous about the whole affair while in England, though upon her return she publicly noted the silliness of the reactivity over the episode. Then she moved forward with her service to the life and mission of a Christian people. But such is life in the Anglican Communion these days. While reactive leadership worries over who’s wearing a mitre and who isn’t, about who’s sitting on which council and who’s being consecrated where and how, while officials attempt to mop up a rude public relations mess and pundits and bloggers like me wax eloquent. . . while the general public roll their eyes over those silly Christians at it again, there are millions across the Communion in dire straits financially, experiencing maddening hunger and debilitating disease, and Creation groans while oil gushes in the Gulf.

It would be too easy to start scoring points against the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, for indulging in irrelevancy – especially in these days of the World Cup. Maybe this is some great ecclesiastical showdown on the world stage. Perhaps we could say The Episcopal Church has scored one goal for being dignified in the face of such rudeness, the Church of England for being so unspeakably insensitive, nil. The crowds are screaming from the stands and the feelings are running high. We could leave it there and call it game over, but that would be too easy. Truth be told, Rowan Williams is in an untenable position, and we are, too, and it’s only half-time.

The office of the Archbishop of Canterbury must oversee and we help fund a nineteenth- and twentieth-century institution, the Anglican Communion, that was built largely on the foundation of gentlemen’s agreements between English and North American bishops – yes, all men, all white – beginning at the height of the British Empire. With the freedom of colonial states in Africa and the explosion of evangelical Anglicanism and rising leadership in those countries; with monumental social, philosophical, and theological change in the West and a shift to more democratic principles of church governance here, the old way of Communion just doesn’t work anymore in a diverse Body.

Our Presiding Bishop puts it this way in a recent interview : we are like a great family in which the teenagers are at last growing up. We no longer, in old colonial fashion, turn to (papa?) Canterbury or gentlemen’s agreements to make it right. The institution, with all of its inherent inertia, its enthrallment with regulations, traditions, and old scores, hasn’t kept up with the times and now must leap somehow -- perhaps blindly or at least clumsily -- into the uncertainty of the twenty-first century. The Body of Christ is moving on to serve a rapidly changing world. How will we follow Jesus towards Jerusalem? Will be like Elisha daring to follow Elijah to the boundary of the Jordan? Will we pick up Elijah’s mantle when he departs? Will we dare ask for a double-share of the spirit of prophecy? These questions in the face of deeply conflicted times must keep Rowan Williams awake at night sometimes. I hope so. They would me. "The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head," after all.

But there is good news. For while bishops and officials quarrel over crumbling ecclesiastical edifices, the Gospel’s mission continues. I think of the House of Bishops in the Church of Tanzania, who hold that their church's communion with The Episcopal Church hangs by the barest thread because of our inter-provincial disagreements over human sexuality. Yet here we are at Church of Our Saviour, in partnership with Ibihwa parish on the ground in the Diocese of Central Tanganyika, supporting primary education for fifty children – many of whom have lost their parents to AIDS. The politicking of bishops matters little in such circumstances. Abstract theological disagreements over human sexuality quickly become irrelevant, when education means a future for a vulnerable life amongst people struggling with unimaginable tragedy and abject poverty.

Closer to home, I think of our youth returning from a mission trip to help with the Appalachia Service Project. I think of our ongoing ministry with the hungry in cooperation with Our Lady Mount Carmel – all theological and ecclesiastical differences aside. I think of the work of the wider Episcopal Church just in Marin County, from a developing food pantry in Contempo Marin to our partnership with numerous churches and organizations in Marin City to start the Hannah Freedom School, a literacy program for at-risk students in Marin City.

Jesus said, “Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” The Church that focuses on institutional preservation for its own sake is about the spiritually dead burying their own dead. When doing it the old way is the only reason for being, we lose sight of who we are called to be and we engage in a half-life focused on death. But when we re-set our gaze forward as a people on mission for the sake of the Gospel -- a people who are walking the way of the cross, who are putting our hand to the plow of the kingdom of God and not looking back, we regain our lives in Christ. The real Anglican Communion is not found in the formal structures of Lambeth Palace or in the tired strife between bishops and archbishops. The Anglican Communion where Jesus lives is where “The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” It’s in the places where sleeves are rolled up for mission and justice prayerfully meets compassion, where suffering is relieved and the hungry are fed, where sacramental, embodied partnerships are giving life rather than fighting over abstract ideas and the inconsequential nature of steeples and mitres.

Then there’s Bishop Christopher Senyonjo, a retired cleric from the Anglican Church of Uganda. Bishop Senyonjo inherited the faith of nineteenth-century English missionaries, along with all the Victorian values they brought with them to the British colonies of Africa. But then came to his door a hidden class of people in Uganda, gay and lesbian, fearful for their lives, living in shame for their sexual orientation and in some instances their clandestine loves. Bishop Senyonjo and the church he served had taught that such as these belonged somewhere in the list of vices we hear today from Paul’s writing: outcasts and sinners surely, condemned by the Christian Gospel. But Bishop Senyonjo listened with compassion to their stories in the light of a loving God “from whom no secrets are hid.” And over time, he began to hear in his gay and lesbian sisters and brothers and in their relationships the fruits of the Spirit that Paul also identifies in the same passage: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. These fruits of the Spirit stood in stark contrast to the encultured suspicions and hatreds of homosexuality in the greater community, ranging all the way up to proposed laws in Uganda – supported by the Church, I might add – to make homosexuality a capital offense. Bishop Senyonjo was converted in a profound way, and, setting his face towards Jerusalem after his beloved Christ, came out as a straight advocate for these hidden and oppressed voices in his Church and homeland. As a result, he and his wife found themselves cut off from his pension, receiving death threats, and severed from a Church to which he had devoted his life and love. Yet he persists, taking his message all around the Anglican Communion. Why? Maybe he has heard today’s Gospel, too, the call of Christ to move forward in God's love, even if it's toward into a crucified place.

For Jesus, the “Son of Man who has nowhere to lay his head,” does not travel alone, but travels with the outcasts and those proclaimed sinners by the wider society. He dines with the unclean and the ritually impure. He talks with women publicly and touches the leper. He hangs out with those proclaimed righteous and unrighteous alike. He faces down the pettiness of self-righteousness and the insularity of the powerful and the narrowness of the traditional. This is Jesus and his new family of the Kingdom on the move, walking towards a crucified place if need be. He is with our sisters and brothers walking this day in the fortieth annual Pride parade in San Francisco, a community of men and women recovering from society-inflicted shame, continuing to struggle for their rights to discern their unique path with God and to seek and celebrate the blessing of the Spirit in their most cherished relationships. Many in that parade have left the Church for obvious reasons. Some have remained by grace and bear with hope the institutionalized second-guessing much of Christianity continues to offer.

Theirs has inspired the struggle of a Church like The Episcopal Church that has recently opened our ears and hearts to their lives and stories. . . and made them our own. This is no longer about our ministry to LGBT people, but about our ministry with them. Like a family coming together out of the closet, this is no longer about "them," but about "us." We journey together towards Jerusalem and through a crucified place, thrown off ecumenical councils, punished by The Archbishop of Canterbury and our sister churches in many places and ways, on the receiving end of cries of heresy and bearing the umbrage of many at home and abroad. In two generations we have taken bold steps that leave us a minority – albeit a growing minority – in the greater Christian world, and we have yet further to go. For instance, it was only last summer that for the first time transgendered members of our Church were able to speak publicly about who they were and what they have experienced in the Church on the floor of our governing bodies. We have yet to settle the controversial questions of marriage and blessings in the context of our traditional liturgies. We are tangled in lawsuits as a few of our sisters and brothers attempt to depart the Body and try to take the property with them. An expensive courtroom battle becomes a painful, woeful recourse when the Family of God cannot live with difference. We quarrel just as the apostles did on the road to Jerusalem. But Jesus walks on – his face is set – leading us on just the same.

Jesus’ call to us today is one of mission above institution. In God’s kingdom our goodness of our institution is measured only as far as it serves the Gospel, only as far as it brings healing in grace, only as far as it is willing to set aside complacency for the rigors of relationship, only as much as it is willing to make tradition live for a new generation, to reinvent the old way of doing things for the needs of those who are with us in the holy present, and those who come after us in the hopeful tomorrow.

Are you challenged by this Gospel? I am. We all are together. But we are reminded in our hymn this day, that old hymn, with an ancient idea that stems from Jesus teaching now nearly twenty centuries old: the Church’s one foundation is Jesus Christ her Lord. It is not a foundation made of cement or stone. Nor is it a foundation of portfolios, stocks, and savings accounts. Nor is it a foundation of old traditions bound up in pretty places or enshrined in canon law. It is a foundation of humanity and divinity made one in Christ – crucified by the world and raised again by God, and breathing ever new life among us in the Spirit.

Two Anglican Bishops on LGBT Rights

Bishops Gene Robinson of New Hampshire and Christopher Senyonjo of Uganda offer up their pastoral perspectives on the ongoing life struggles of our LGBT sisters and brothers around the world. Both bring their own experience of being marginalized and threatened to their witness.

They remind us that theology is hollow if it is not worked out in the real, incarnate lives of God's people; that it is in humble, loving engagement with one another that our hearts, minds, and lives are transformed by the Gospel.

More on Chastity

Having tired of attempting to engage with abuse from anonymous commentators over at Titus One Nine, I will dare here to draw in some background text to further support my reflection on a more expansive understanding of chastity.

One classical Christian text on chastity is from St. Francis de Sales’ Introduction to the Devout Life, esp. III.12-III.13 (page numbers here are from my recently purchased copy of the 400th Anniversary Edition published by Eremitical Press).

While Francis’ treatment of chastity clearly begins with chastity’s recognizable technical definition of sexual purity, his opening on the subject in III.12 includes this lovely and undeniable springboard into wider meaning: “Chastity is called honesty, and the possession of it honor; it is also named integrity, and the opposite vice, corruption. In short, it has its special glory to be the fair and unspotted virtue of both soul and body ” (121-122).

Francis articulates the need to pursue chastity even while in the married state, even while enjoying sexual pleasure with one's spouse! The conclusion to be drawn is that there is much more to chastity, then, than merely the container (in this case, marriage) of sexual relations. Francis argues chastity demands a context of moderation and avoidance of abuse (123). This I interpret to mean abstaining from the realm of domination and control, which are arguably forms of abuse, however subtly they might be employed.

Late in the same section, he articulates the necessity of chastity for “all classes of people,” as chastity is inexorably linked with holiness and cleanliness of the heart (124) and he references three distinct parts of the New Testament to support his argument. To amplify Francis’ point further, I would add Jesus’ teaching that it is the heart from where all relational vice and violence come, as in Matthew 15:18-20. Chastity, Francis clearly argues, is not simply a matter of sexuality, but fundamentally and most importantly involves the human heart and the quality of all its relationships.

In III.13 (125-126) Francis takes this yet further by asserting that loss of chastity is possible even outside of sexual relations. A quote he attributes to Basil through John Cassian may very well be at the root of a teaching on chastity I was offered by a celibate monk: “I know not what belongs to a woman, yet I am not a virgin.” The implication is clear – it is possible for even the assiduously celibate to be unchaste. There is, simply put, much more to chastity than sex.

Again, I will concede there are disagreements in the wider church at present over what constitutes chaste sexuality. I might even dare to quibble with Francis on what defines chaste sexuality. But that is not at all to throw the proverbial baby out with the bath water. By Francis’ standards, the underlying -- and more important -- virtue of chastity is found in its direction for all forms of human relating, and that is relating not through abuse (domination, control) but rather through the purity of love, integrity, peace, etc.

On Chastity

From a reflection just published at Episcopal Cafe:

Having spent an increasing amount of time in conversation with married couples in recent years, the most commonly destructive dynamic in any relationship I have found has to do with a failure of chastity. But I don't mean sex outside the marriage. By chastity in marriage I mean the challenge of setting aside the stubborn drive to control or change person we most cherish. When couples learn this, the effect in their relationship and family is simply astonishing. Anxiety and anger levels drop almost immediately. There is a renewed simultaneous sense of freedom and connection. Spouses allow their partners to grow. Parents allow their children to seek accountable maturity. Needs are articulated. Resentments are set aside. Rather than using or abusing the relationship to change others, the relationships by themselves become transformative. Everyone is changed.

Update: Kendall Harmon responded to this essay over at Titus One Nine.

Bread for the Journey

After a period of overwrought and half-baked arguments coming from various quarters on the late, great Anglican "crisis" there emerges an argument so nourishing that I can only call it bread for the journey.

Mark Harris has captured it here. Tobias Haller comments on it here.

But among Bishop Selby's most nourishing prose are these paragraphs, which speak to the very heart of what is happening right now in many places in the wider Church.

For me, it points to the very heart of Anglicanism, if not the work of the Holy Spirit in the present hour of our shared history:

A colleague and his partner were to register their partnership, and a number of us were invited. There was no suggestion that there would be a blessing of this union, or anything else that might cause incongruity or unrecognisability. But it did so happen that the ceremony was arranged to take place closely after the usual time of the eucharist in the local Church, to which the guests were also invited. Not surprisingly prayers were offered for the pair, and the eucharist proceeded as usual - or not quite.

When time came for the distribution of the Sacrament, nothing had been said about what was to happen. But the congregation knew what was to happen: they remained in their seats until the pair whose partnership was to be registered had received together. Where was this unscripted choreography learned? Obviously through the attendance of many in the congregation at wedding eucharists. But this was not of course a wedding - or was it? Might not this event in the distribution of the Sacrament have been a picture of what at an earlier time the Archbishop would have called 'The Body's Grace', the mediation of truth through the liturgical actions of the people, while the official Church was still struggling to avoid an affirmation it was unwilling to make.

I tell the story not to argue against those others who have decided simply to disobey the rules. I tell it rather to show that while the Primates of our Communion labour at the question of incongruity, a different perception of the truth is being recognised in the actions of the people. Nor am I telling the story to suggest that actions of that kind can serve as a substitute for a just and faithful resolution of a conflict which has hurt too many and lasted too long. I tell the story because even as hierarchies struggle to maintain rigidities in place, even as persons are hurt and their ministries denied, something else is going on, namely the emergence of the hidden wisdom of God's people, a choreography of promise, a recognition which the official Church will surely have to take seriously. That will not be (as the Archbishop [of Canterbury] quite wrongly suggests) because the Church will have ended up conforming to social mores rather than critiqued them; it will be because truth has been discovered precisely in the context of biblical and theological reflection and acted out in worship; and what the pew sheet I quoted accurately called 'the current panic' will not outlast the God whose message is not to be afraid.

Eyes on the Floor

Posts at Episcopal Café from General Convention

postings are in reverse chronological order

Matters of Conscience, Matters of Psyche
Less is More
Washing Socks
An Epochal Boundary
Reclaiming Solid Ground
On Truth Telling
Title IV - Moved and Moving
B033 - A Festering Wound
B033 and Elephants
Process and Story
Title IV 101
Reflections from General Convention

Portia and Prop 8

The hollow case for Proposition 8 won a hollow victory today in California - one that I find positively Shakespearean the more I reflect on it. Remember Merchant of Venice? Set aside the rank anti-Semitism of the play with me for just a minute and recall Portia's clever solution to Shylock's sadistic collateral from the merchant Antonio for his failure to pay a debt:

PORTIA
A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine:
The court awards it, and the law doth give it.

SHYLOCK
Most rightful judge!

PORTIA
And you must cut this flesh from off his breast:
The law allows it, and the court awards it.

SHYLOCK
Most learned judge! A sentence! Come, prepare!

PORTIA
Tarry a little; there is something else.
This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood;
The words expressly are 'a pound of flesh:'
Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh;
But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate
Unto the state of Venice.

The Supreme Court of California, in a subtle but brilliant decision, ducked the veiled threat of recall by Prop 8 supporters and avoided taking the blood of tangible rights and privileges from same-sex couples. And I mean that covenanted blood protected - if not by marriage for those fortunate in timing, then by domestic partnership laws already offering equal protection.

There's more than a bit of divine humor in the Portia-like decision. Prop 8 supporters knew a direct attack on rights and privileges of couples would never fly in the polls -- even less so in the courtroom. So they settled for the idol of the term "marriage," but without real substance save perhaps social recognition.

That is now the true moral disappointment for couples seeking equal protection, at least it seems to me: the loss of the social recognition of the term "marriage." But time, the arc of justice, and possibly even the divine sense of humor are on their side. Separate but equal is a legal foundation of shifting sand. Legal "marriage" will be theirs again in the long run.

Prop 8 supporters may cheer over their "pound of flesh" and the slowly separating pottage they have unwittingly wrought with no fewer than three legal classes of protected couples in California: those "straight" and married, same-sex couples married between the last court decision and the passage of Prop 8, and those receiving rights and privileges under domestic partnership laws.

But the cheers ring hollow, because the "pound of flesh" is less substantive and more a mere ghost of definition under law. It has no tangible substance in California except a social projection without distinction of rights and privileges. . . a dumb idol, legally speaking, and perhaps morally and spiritually, too.

The hollow case has become the hollow definition.

Don’t look now, but Prop 8 supporters, for all of their money and efforts, have secured a Pyrrhic victory – one that has eviscerated their cause as they are shepherded into a cold, narrow definition of their own legalism just as Shylock was.

Thankfully, God's grace is more generous than Shakespeare. But I have to chuckle while standing in solidarity with my LGBT sisters and brothers.

Portia would be proud...

Updates:

Bishop Marc Andrus responds
Zoe Cole offers more legal perspective on the decision
Will Scott offers moving personal witness

The Hollow Case Wins

Proposition 8's narrow win in California is a defeat for basic equality, which is more than just a political issue: it's a theological one.  Jesus' vision for the new community that he called "the kingdom of heaven" was fundamentally about breaking down the walls of separation often defined by un-equal treatment. Martin Luther King, Jr., captured this essential piece of Christian theology when he popularized "the beloved community" as a vision of God's future for the human family and all of creation.

Speaking as an American citizen, Prop 8 represents a sorry collision between the democratic ideals of the referendum process and the obligation of the judiciary in a democracy to uphold the basic rights of minorities -- over and against the potential tyranny of the majority.  The irreconcilable conflict of rights now written in the California state constitution will be the subject of many court battles to come, and rightly so. However much the Prop 8 proponents may cheer at their victory this day, I take hope that their success has far less margin than the referendum vote of only a few years ago -- one that they argued they were defending.

And what were they defending?

Those of us who live in communities where gay and lesbian couples are openly sharing covenanted relationships -- yes, that's what I and many other Christians call marriage -- and some of them raising families. . . Well, we see no threat whatsoever to heterosexual marriages. Indeed, my marriage has been strengthened by their witness.

Prop 8 rode a dubious, hollow case that somehow its rejection would mean gay and lesbian marriage would be taught in schools. State educators made it clear this was not at all true. Another spurious claim was that clergy would be forced by the state to marry same-sex couples. This is as naked a red herring as there ever was.  Then there's the idea that traditional marriage, whatever we mean by that, needs to be "protected." Again, I ask (and I have yet to hear a cogent answer) from what, exactly?

Behind these flimsy arguments are the real questions that need to be addressed, if we listen closely.  Here are only two of them:

Is there truly a threat that same-sex marriages pose to the integrity of the household, Christian or otherwise?  

Do we still dare to believe that people can "catch" homosexuality, as though it's a disease?  

Proposition 8 is a sham and a shame. It enshrines fear and discrimination at the constitutional level in California.  It affirms ignorance over compassionate knowledge.  It throws a thin veil of abstract morality over bigotry and intolerance.  It idolizes gender and sexuality, when true marriage is fundamentally about neither. And contrary to its disciples' assertions, Prop 8 will not save marriage.  Nor will fear.  I wish and pray that many setting out to "save marriage" would stop attempting to do so through fear.  Fear has destroyed many a marriage, after all.  And fear undermines the God-given dignity of the human family. 

I only echo Martin Luther King, Jr.,  by writing this: 

Given the long arc of history in this country, Proposition 8 will not ultimately stand.  Hollow cases built on fear and ignorance cannot remain for long in God's time.  Nor can they, by definition, withstand the light of reason.

My thoughts and prayers are very much with our sisters and brothers who are hurt by this mean proposition.  Their dignity and future security is what is truly threatened, and that of their children.  This is the true offense to morality.  

Long may we defend them: with renewed and prayerful patience, solidarity, and witness to the fruits of covenant already among us.

Leaning on B033

So the House of Bishops has released a concise, clear statement, to the broader Church.

Yet it only clarifies that we remain very much with one foot in the closet, and the other out of it.

I concede, at least from a political angle, it is probably all our bishops could do at this point without over-stepping the bounds of their limited authority. The moratoria the Primates called for in their February Communiqué demanded almost draconian action of our episcopacy, a virtual running over of the laity and clergy in a number of dioceses without reference to their view or input. In short, the bishops were being asked to stop any legislation or decisions moving through General Convention and other authoritative bodies that would open the door of the episcopacy or authorized rites to our LGBT brothers and sisters. . . and for an indefinite period, as there is no timeline for the Anglican Communion reaching "consensus" on these matters.

Could they have done it? In theory, yes. Some would say they should have. Unless you are a stranger to this blog, you will know I'm very glad they didn't. Beyond the dreadful face it would have turned to some of our sisters and brothers in Christ, I think it would have spelt pastoral suicide for some bishops in their home dioceses and made heroes out of others. And finally it would have ultimately undermined the spirit of governance in this Church -- and I mean the Spirit being able to work freely across and through all four orders without bishops dictating terms and arrogating to themselves a great deal of power.

Fair enough.

But the other side of this statement is sorry in its own right, for the simple reason that the House of Bishops has staked our continued participation in the Anglican Communion on Resolution B033 from General Convention 2006, a piece of legislation that was pushed through in a tired moment and left many deputies (and some bishops) in frustrated, conflicted tears: hardly a reflection of prayerful contemplation and discernment. As friend, colleague, and General Convention deputy John Kirkley describes, it was the outcome of an "exercise in spiritual violence."

But then, B033 perhaps reflects the general state of the Communion at the present time -- where compromises over the manifesting issues come with gritted teeth and grumbling.

Because, at the end of the day, we are wrestling with a series of fundamental yes or no questions, which Anglicans, historically, don't always handle that well.

These include:

Do lesbian, gay, bi-sexual, and trans-gendered persons deserve to be treated with full dignity in Christian community?

Are their committed relationships with others of the same gender blessed by God?

To these questions, our House of Bishops answered, in effect, a reserved "no," though I know many of them scarcely agree. They conceded to limit themselves to the boundaries of B033, hemming in their actions within the sorry and somewhat strange place our last General Convention left matters. . .all in the name of unity.

So, for that reason, I am saddened by what our bishops wrought. Especially for our LGBT sisters and brothers, including my colleagues in ministry who must continue wading through the gray of uncertainty as to whether or not they are fully welcomed as baptized members of this Church.

Despite the clear call "for unequivocal and active commitment to the civil rights, safety, and dignity of gay and lesbian persons," we refuse to embody this as a Church.

This is how systemic "-isms" work, including racism, sexism, and heterosexism. Promise all that is good and deliver. . .well. . .porridge.

It is my heartfelt prayer that our bishops will take up the "pastoral duty" they cite in this statement with enormous care. Pastoral duty and careful, sometimes painful conversation, will be the fare of the coming days in many places -- probably both in "conservative" dioceses where full accession to the Primates' Communiqué was desired, and in more "liberal" ones, not least of which is Chicago, where one nominee for bishop now has good reason to question whether it's worth the terrible media scrutiny she's already endured.

Betrayal is, in the best of circumstances, a terribly bitter pill to swallow.

God have mercy on all of us, and may we find tender places in our hearts for one another in the coming days.

Finally, the question remains whether B033, a flimsy and suspect piece of legislation, will be enough for our bishops to shield the integrity of the Body against our harshest detractors and help maintain the unity of the Communion.

In my view, probably not.

And just as well.

After all, God is "our strength and our shield," and a "very present help in trouble."

Christ is the ultimate source of our unity when it is threatened.

With all respect to our bishops, and my best prayers, B033 is most certainly not.

See more commentary over at The Lead.

Jared Cramer offers a more optimistic appraisal at Scribere Orare Est.

Episcopal Café is tracking news articles and other reactions here and here and here.

Tobias Haller offers up his usually profound insight.

Heartfelt Truth

Bishop Marc's September 20th statement to the House of Bishops, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and visitors:

Most Reverend Sir, Honored Guests from the Communion,

I am Marc Andrus, Bishop of the Diocese of California. I have been given the grace of serving a diocese that encompasses enormous diversity, both in what we call the natural environment, and also in what we might call human ecology. I grew up in the American South where to my consciousness human diversity was cast in terms of Black and White.

In the California Bay Area the societal parameters for inclusion, outside even the concerns of the Church, are wide ranging: gender, ethnicity, economic, and sexual orientation. All of these parameters have received intense attention in the civil society, and have also been the concerns of the Episcopal Church in the Bay Area.

With respect to sexual orientation, it must be said that the Episcopal Church is the main refuge for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered people who are seeking to lead a Christian life. These people are primarily not natives of the Bay Area, they come from all over the United States and indeed the world. They have come to San Francisco and the Bay Area seeking a life where they are not subjected to discrimination and violence, where they can lead normal lives, and in some cases, Christian lives. It is my responsibility to provide a context for this search for holiness of life.

It is also important to say here that the Episcopal Church in the Bay Area is immeasurably enriched by the presence of LGBT people in our parishes and missions. These are gifted, faithful Christian people, lay and ordained, passionate about their faith and church. It is hard to imagine what the Diocese of California would be like without these great people, but I can get something of a picture by remembering the many places I’ve lived from which they have come to the Bay Area, places where they were barred from employment, pushed out of their homes and families, and yes, found cold welcome in churches, and tragically in some instances, were subjected to physical violence. For every one of these men and women enlivening the Episcopal Church in the Diocese of California there are empty places all over the United States where their graceful presences are missing.

This is also true for me regarding Gene Robinson. He has helped this body of bishops of the Church with intelligence, passion, humility and great courage over the past four years, and I know he has served his diocese in the same manner. I hope, simply, that there will not be a Gene-shaped space at the Lambeth Conference where the living child of God Gene should be.

News and Blogging of the Day:
Our beloved Grandmère Mimi reflects on her impressions of the opening HoB Eucharist.

Rowan Cantuar roundly rejects any notion that September 30th is the deadline for an "ultimatum" and closes with a hopeful note.

The Church of Wales defers on the draft Anglican Covenant, not ready to accept it in its present form.

Mark Harris reflects briefly on the "frustration" of the Network bishops leaving the House of Bishops meeting before the dust behind the Archbishop of Canterbury's carriage settles.

and Bishop Kirk Smith of Arizona offers his perspective on the meeting thus far.

Home to Roost

Now, at last, the long-brewing situation is coming home to roost for all parties involved.

Fr. Jake, Susan Russell, Davis Mac-Iyalla, Greg Griffith, and Kendall Harmon have all joined in repudiating outrageous statements reportedly coming from the episcopate in Nigeria. The real hatred and violence of rhetoric in parts of the Anglican Communion is now being shouted from the rooftops, it seems.

I am struck by the self-fulfilling prophecy, almost apocalyptic in tone, that this September is already coming to embody for the greater Church. It is a bold, raw moment for true Christians to step forward and show the light of Christ to one another. . . or to recoil into the darkness of schism and vituperation.

This will provide a true measure of the Archbishop of Canterbury and, to a lesser degree, our House of Bishops, and their sisters and brothers across the Communion.

Who will stand and be counted, indeed?

We watch, pray, and speak with hope of our God in Christ, who is the light "when all other lights have gone out."

Some Thoughts for Pause

This was a particularly moving weekend, both locally and in Anglican Land, as they came together in unexpected and fascinating ways. Tobias Haller and Father Jake have all the latest, and I won't repeat their thoughts (but maybe a picture or two). Suffice it to say the Anglican Church of Canada, while offering a mixed bag out of their General Synod, had a good crack at trying to reach some point of compromise on the question of same-sex blessings. Theirs appears to have been among the most civil conversation on these matters thus far in the Communion.

Perhaps most striking is the resolution that did pass in the Church of Canada: in concordance with the St. Michael Report that questions of human sexuality may be doctrinal, but they do not represent core doctrinal matters. As Tobias puts it:

Yeah. The proportions seem about right.

Tobias also remarks in a comment in the subsequent thread something that I found both helpful and arresting. All sides seeking some kind of way forward together may indeed be arguing more about pastoral theology rather than dogmatic theology. That leads me quickly to the thought (doubtless not all that original) that dogmatic theology has a tendency to be universalizing, while pastoral theology implies local and incarnational.

So much in the recent debates, it seems to me, has pitted one wholly over and against the other. The third way that is emerging is a distinction, but not an exclusion: that dogmatic theology for Anglicans is best summed up in the creeds, and pastoral theology is locally provisioned and, in many respects, provisional. I find this, quite frankly, a very hopeful, albeit potential way forward in what has been looking for a long time like a myriad of dead ends. . .especially for all those trying to move with integrity through this disagreement.

Perhaps the Anglican Church of Canada was on the right track. It has already been noted elsewhere this may provide a framework for our bishops and the Archbishop of Canterbury to engage in fruitful conversation this September.

That such a distinction (or any distinction) will be workable for some and not for others is, of course, a given. It has become clear with the new announcements of consecrating cross-jurisdictional bishops that some Archbishops are going to continue forward with their previously laid schemes. They have already, the Primates' deadlines notwithstanding, dismissed The Episcopal Church, if not the provinces in North America all together.

An old Japanese proverb well worth re-quoting goes something like this: "The bamboo that bends is stronger than the oak that resists."

So this distinction between pastoral and dogmatic theology is only a thought for the rest of us who are willing to stay at table of Communion and live faithfully into disagreement on this matter.

Andrew, my piano teacher and mentor when I was an undergraduate, wrote me a few months ago reminding me that dissonance might be a key metaphor for the current controversy over human sexuality. In Western musical harmony, at least, the resolution is all the more poignant when it is delayed.

As I reflect further, it strikes me that there are a number of ways to handle dissonances in traditional voice leading. One is for a voice in the chord to move to resolve the dissonance. In resolving some dissonances, more than one voice, or even all voices must move. In yet other solutions, the voice causing the dissonance simply fades away, leaving only the tones of a resolved chord. And, of course, some composers have in some or many situations opted merely to leave the dissonances in place, unresolved.

And it was Jesus, Son of the Great Composer, who said, "Let anyone with ears to hear listen!"

On Sunday, I attended the Gay Pride Eucharist at St. John the Evangelist, San Francisco. It was a beautiful, moving liturgy.

There I met in the flesh Davis Mac-Iyalla. Once again, all the theologizing, posturing, and pontificating around the Communion became glaringly real. I found it a bit uncanny to process with him into the mass, and even more so to then join the faithful filling the nave, as together with our bishop we blessed Davis in his continued witness in what can be most graciously described as a very hostile part of the Communion.

It is no exaggeration to write that his public stand is a life and death matter for him. So I was humbled to be praying with others in person for his safety as he lives into his ongoing call, in the words of the charge to which he re-committed himself:

. . . to defend the vulnerable, give voice to the voiceless, comfort the afflicted, and proclaim God's reign come near.

God go with you, Davis, and with all who are putting themselves on the line for the sake of the dignity of our LGBT sisters and brothers around the world.

And may Christ's true charity rule the hearts of all of us in the days to come.

The Unraveling Plan

Clarity is a curious thing.

While cause and effect relationships are probably infinitely more complex, there is a deepening sense that the schismatic and belligerent agendas across the Anglican Communion are beginning to sour in strange and unexpected ways. The Episcopal Church's House of Bishops statement last week raised a renewed standard of internal integrity and charitable language towards those who are our greatest detractors. The response has been less than charitable, but far from unified. The clarity of the HoB's statement itself seems now to be shining light into previously dark corners of half-hidden agendas and bullying, sending some scurrying for cover and not finding very much of it, and yet others having to face up to the reality of their words and threats.

Real concerns are emerging over the plotting process that led to the form the Primates' Communiqué took. Fr. Jake has just posted this rather disturbing witness of the Primate of Mexico. The Primates' credibility as a body is taking some serious hits even from within.

Results of the listening process, called for nearly ten years ago by the same Lambeth Resolution that has been so ballyhooed in recent years, 1998.I.10, has resulted in a wide variety of responses from the provinces of the Anglican Communion. There is clear indication of the priority now being given for pastoral care for the dignity of gays and lesbians in many provinces -- a step forward, perhaps. By contrast, the glaringly uncharitable and damning view of the Church of Nigeria is now posted in all of its ugly glory for the world to see -- including Nigeria's House of Bishops' and Primate's support for the pending anti-gay legislation so roundly condemned internationally. CANA churches in this country, under the authority now of the Church of Nigeria, are out of explanations for householding with this point-of-view.

Thinking Anglicans has a thorough round-up here.

It appears to me now that the Communion is not divided so neatly that a schism over human sexuality is inevitable or would, even if it came to pass, result in any clear delineations. In fact, it would probably be a gargantuan mess. Images of masses of Anglicans charging over the hill in the name of their true Gospel give way to images of an unruly and angry mob. Perhaps that's appropriate for coming Holy Week.

Adding to the messiness is the just-announced attempt of the vestry of a large parish in Colorado to pull their community into CANA, and bringing back a rector, The Rev. Don Armstrong, at the helm again -- following a three month inhibition as accusations of his misuse of finances were investigated. With this attempted departure, the Diocese of Colorado will certainly and sadly have their hands full, but Armstrong does not lend credibility to the CANA cause, nor does he make a good character reference for the cause of those seeking schism. Fleeing to CANA effectively attempts to evade his accountability, on the ecclesiastical side at least, to what is now a substantial charge of malfeasance.

Dr. Ephraim Radner, closely allied with Armstrong, has been pushed hard over his connections with the Institute for Religion and Democracy and offers an emotional response to the House of Bishops meeting that sounds thoughtful but doesn't appear to me to be really rooted in fact. If anything, his pleading at Camp Allen at best effected very little for the cause, and at worst only helped the House of Bishops look more closely at the scheming and machinations of the Network in conjunction with the Global South Primates. Katherine Grieb's insightful witness to the Covenant in light of the Communiqué at the House of Bishops meeting stole the show, shining significant light on the scurrilous plots afoot.

Update: Fr. Jake has a round-up of a number of important documents that highlight the history of the plotting.

Jim Naughton is right: the credibility of the Covenant process, which Grieb and Radner helped author in the name of unity, is now on the line. So is that of the Anglican Communion Institute, which Armstrong led and of which Radner is a part.

The Network leadership remains oddly quiet. (That might or might not last long.) Apparently there was not serious consideration given to the potential for such a clear and resounding statement from our House of Bishops. . . or perhaps now that the game has been called, it will be time to play the much threatened departure card. . . but to where? With lawsuits over property churning and the potential for others looming, nothing is looking all that rosy right now, and from this end, it seems the Network is not as organized in thinking or direction as once thought. More unhelpful to their cause is that some old Network allies in the House of Bishops voted for last week's statements and have been singing its praises since, not to mention the praises of our new Presiding Bishop who shows more and more gracious colors.

And, in the light of the listening process report, the Archbishop of Canterbury makes a mildly surprising sort of appeal for the safety of lesbians and gays in churches across the Anglican Communion. It is a clear achievement of understatement, and not terribly compelling. But it is enough to cast at least a little more doubt on the Church of Nigeria's position. I wonder how Archbishop Akinola will respond. More threats, quite frankly, would fit the pattern thus far.

Clarity on the part of our House of Bishops helped bring some health back to the Communion. Bullies, in good Anglican fashion, are being gently hemmed in. Christians are being asked to speak to each other honestly with charity more worthy of Christ rather than resort to threats, escapism, or coercive power. And mutual accountability is being claimed and offered where mutual accountability is due.

This is, of course, far from over. And there are surely ugly days yet ahead. . .

But now we see the schismatic plan as it begins to unfold. . .

Or unravel might be a better word.

Small Ways in a Big Matter - UPDATED

Updated March 24th, 2007

Jim Naughton has received word suggesting that legislation in Nigeria, making any organizing for or by gay or lesbian people a crime with a penalty of imprisonment, has once again been delayed. Archbishop Peter Akinola of the Church of Nigeria has publicly supported this legislation, and was reportedly lobbying Anglicans in the Nigerian government now for its passage. Still no public response has been offered that I know of by our Anglican Communion Primates. A wide range of national and international groups oppose the legislation, from Human Rights Watch to the U. S. State Department, on the grounds that it violates essential human rights and undermines Nigeria's own constitution.

Canon AkinTunde Popoola, Director of Communications for the Church of Nigeria, in a comment at Thinking Anglicans writes simply this in response to criticism for the church's support:

"I do not think speaking publicly against the bill will do the Gospel any good in our context."

My question: Whose Gospel are we talking about here?

David Mac-Iyalla, long in hiding for threats on his life for standing up for LGBT Christians in Nigeria, also released a statement yesterday. (Hat tip to Jim Naughton)

For more background:

Matt Thompson is watching at Political Spaghetti. Mark Harris reflects on the discussion of the Episcopal Church's Executive Council on the matter, and the New York Times published an editorial on the legislation. Also read the an editorial in Time, following up on an article on Archbishop Akinola several issues prior. Our House of Bishops only obliquely referenced the matter in their statement from Camp Allen on March 20th, but Bishop Catherine Roskam addressed it directly in the media conference immediately after, condemning any acts that inflict violence -- legal or otherwise -- on LGBT people.

Still asking what you might do?

Matt offers recommendations. I called my representative and senators asking for their attention to this matter, with the hopes that they might help bring appropriate pressure to bear.

Please continue to pray for Archbishop Peter Akinola, for Davis Mac-Iyalla, and for all LGBT people in Nigeria. Please also continue pray for the countless in Nigeria, the most populous country in Africa, who suffer from the degradation of hunger, disease, inter-religious violence, governmental corruption, and the pollution caused by international drilling for oil along the Nigerian delta. Would that the focus of the Anglican Communion turn wholeheartedly to these pressing needs rather than get caught up in the scapegoating of some of our sisters and brothers.

It strikes me that none of us, regardless of where we stand on the question of human sexuality, can stand in favor of draconian legislation and death threats that undermine essential human dignity. The Gospel witness is that Jesus stood for and with all who were considered sinners in their own place and day when their lives and dignity were threatened. As Christians, we can do no less.

The Voices of Reason

If you read nothing else about the current crisis in the Anglican Communion over human sexuality, read these two documents: 1) The Statement of Anglican Women gathered together at the United Nations Commission on Women; and 2) Archbishop Barry Morgan's lecture given this past Saturday at St. Fin Barre's Cathedral, Cork.

The Anglican Women have reminded us what holds us in Communion beyond all our differences: our baptism. It really is that simple. Sometimes we must be reminded that it is mostly men making much of the current mess in the Anglican Communion (yours truly included.) But then we love to make simple things difficult and complicated, don't we?

So the Archbishop of Wales makes things a bit more complicated by tying together the cross-cultural and hermeneutic bases of the current conflict, as well as dissembling 1998 Lambeth Resolution I.10 without resorting to polemic. But what results is a great deal of needed clarity in an example of the best piece of succinct Anglican theology I've read in a while. Jim Naughton puts it this way: "He makes the case for the Episcopal Church better than we have made it ourselves." Would that he might have been in Tanzania.

Or, as I discussed over lunch today with a friend, perhaps it was good that he wasn't. It helped him retain much-needed perspective.

Are things out of proportion right now? Absolutely. But hope remains, argues women of the Communion and the Archbishop of Wales, and that is where we all need to look. . .and live. For hope is where Christ is to be found.

(A big thank you to Jane for reminding me of the Anglican Women's statement, which led to this much updated post!)

For Those in Harm's Way

Human Rights Watch posted this letter, including many signatories from leaders in the Episcopal Church, opposing the impending legislation in Nigeria that would make homosexuality a criminal offense punishable by imprisonment in that country.

Archbishop Peter Akinola supports this heinous bill. The public silence of the Archbishop of Canterbury and other Primates on this matter has been disheartening.

I have one four-letter word in response:

P-R-A-Y

. . .and then do whatever else you can.

More Across the "Divide"

My sincere gratitude to Daniel Hayden Martins, priest in the Diocese of San Joaquin and deputy to General Convention, who was willing to open conversation with me about our theological disagreements over human sexuality in response to his post Keeping Promises. I have long avoided more vitriolic and polemical sites and blogs on the web for my own sense of spiritual well-being. Thick skins are not infinitely so, and what sometimes unfolded at Fr. Jake's place was sufficiently bracing for me!

What I lose, though, particularly in the Diocese of California at times, is a sense of a thoroughgoing argument from the "other side," and for that I am grateful to Dan for courting conciliatory, candid, and civil discourse, even as he weighs carefully, along with his colleagues and bishop, the merits of his diocese remaining part of the Episcopal Church. Dan wooed me by gracing this blog with a comment or two, a sense of humor that brings some welcome perspective, and a truly pastoral and generous tone with those who would sharply disagree with him.

Again, I offer this discussion, or, as Tobias Haller more aptly puts, "engagement" for consideration and comment. Please bear with me faithfully in mind and heart, though, that this is a discussion between two heterosexual, married, male priests, at least at the outset. For that reason, comments from LGBT sisters and brothers and women will be important to bring fair and honest treatment to this conversation. My hope, as another Lenten discipline, is that this demonstrates patient, honest, thoughtful, and charitable argument at a time when our discussions are largely anything but. I will post the discussion here as long as it unfolds, and bear correction to my points in keeping with the thread of the discussion.

Note to the reader: parts of the discussion here are quite candid regarding matters of human sexuality. I have edited some of the comments for content so as to keep this conversation appropriate for as wide an audience as possible (apologies in advance to those whose comments I have seen fit to edit -- call it blogger's privilege.) Still, reader's discretion is advised!


In response to the original post, I commented:

Dan,

Thank you for this conciliatory post, in that you recognize the sincerity of the "other side." I pray that I may say honestly I recognize your sincerity as well, and with that in mind, I would like to ask a few questions about your position for clarification, if not that they might lead to further discussion:

1) You posit the notion of "revealed" truth. Does that forestall the possibility that God might reveal more (either now or in the future)? I think in particular of the Scriptural record regarding slavery, regarded as a revealed reality for many Christians (and our spiritual forbears) for millennia. We could argue that only in the past few centuries was it "revealed" to the majority of humanity and all Christendom that slavery is, in fact, sinful.

2) Is it sufficient, morally and as a witness to the compassion of Christ, to collapse the profound ethical dilemma presented by the traditional Church to our gay and lesbian sisters and brothers by asserting simply that it is God's will for them? The dilemma is, put most simply, a double-bind: they are either to enter traditional marriage against their natural sexual attraction, or assume a life celibacy. That celibacy is a call of some I will freely admit, but it is not to be forced (forgive me for assuming that you would not agree with the Roman Catholic position on clergy).

3) How do we own, as a Church, in your view, Jesus' words in Matthew 18:18-20? I do not presume, in this case, to argue that the Church can do anything with God's approval, but rather I seek to point out that marriage is, however divinely inspired, a human institution that has undergone considerable change over the past 2,000 years within the Church and reflects remarkable diversity even within the Christian family today. Is it remotely possible that the privileges of marriage might be extended to same-sex couples if we came to agree (I ask you take this on only for the sake of argument) that the few explicit prohibitions in Scripture are, like slavery, more cultural artifacts than divine dictums?

Faithfully in Christ, and my prayers.

Dan Martins said...

Richard, thank-you for your comments and questions. I will respond in (hopefully) some depth, but not before this evening (Tuesday), as my calendar is jammed up today. (As you realize, bloggers who are parish priests have "day jobs", eh?!).

Anonymous said...

Perhaps I'm wrong about this, and if so I'm open to listening, but it seems to me that the basic argument put forth by the LGBT community within the church is that sexual behavior is morally neutral, i.e., it's not a moral question.

And in fact, that is the commonly agreed upon opinion within the secular, non-Christian community, in this society. I actually know very few people, and none outside the church, who think that what one does sexually is a matter of right or wrong.

There may be particular circumstances that are more or less approved of, but even those are disputed.

It seems to me that this is the view that the church is being pressured to affirm.

The problem is that the sexual act is not just or primarily a form of recreation, release, or bonding. It is primarily the way that in this creation new life is created. Everything else pushes otherwise atomized individuals to keep creation going.

Because I believe in God, I believe that this was His design and it is good. Therefore, I think that to say that the desire given by us by God to participate in creation is morally neutral means virtually everything, including participating in the end of life is morally neutral.

What's more important than what we do with our God given ability to create life? Not everyone can participate in that. Those of us who have not been given that gift can support the ones who have.

But to denigrate that life creating force, at the demand of a culture that knows nothing but immediate gratification does not seem to me to be a Christian understanding of creation or what it means to live a moral life.

R said...

anonymous,

I would disagree with your characterization of LGBT Christians' position as a whole. You might find individuals who would argue this way, but if this were broadly true, several matters under serious debate right now (such as same-sex blessings) would not even be on the table.

I agree with you that sexual behavior is not morally neutral -- except perhaps in the most clinical sense, but that reduces sex to the combination of body parts devoid of context, which never happens in the world in which I live, at least.

Sexuality (or sexual orientation), on the other hand, is morally neutral. This may be what you have been hearing. In fact, as I understand it, this is what the Roman Catholic Church teaches at present: that the simple sexual attraction we may feel for another person remains essentially neutral unless we act on it. How we act on it is then the moral choice, and those actions carry the moral content.

Sexual behavior always occurs, I would argue, in a context of relationship, intention, and a measure of love, which means even sex within marriage can be morally bad (as in rape) or morally good, as, I agree with you, God intended.

To me, the divine admonition in Scripture to "be fruitful and multiply" can broadly apply to both heterosexual and homosexual couples. "Fruitful" can imply bearing fruit in the greater community, the couple providing a locus of hospitality for guests, strangers, friends, and even other creatures of God. C.S. Lewis, for example, posits that the entire household may be raised on the last day as a living unit.

Sacramentally, the couple are more than the sum of their parts: 1+1 does not equal 2, but something far greater, a new creature in Christ, "one flesh" that brings new life into the community and a vessel of God's grace.

In this context, sex does indeed signify a deep spiritual and physical bond of utter self-giving and mutual joy that, in some cases, might bear biological children, but in most cases (heterosexual or homosexual) is a sacramental act that is the outward and visible sign of the couple as "one flesh," very much in line with traditional Christian teachings and Pauline writing.

We can "multiply" so many ways. Some couples devote their lives to service that multiplies their gifts, and they may never have children. Others may multiply not through biological offspring, but through adoption, drawing those who would be otherwise destitute into a household of warmth, affection, and creative love that offers the child(ren) a place in which to grow into God's call for them.

I believe where our disagreements lie is in a much more narrow moral question: is all homosexual sexual behavior "bad," or can it be morally good in particular context(s)? What most LGBT Christians in the Episcopal Church are arguing right now (and I agree with them) is that within the context of a loving, committed, monogamous, life-long relationship, sexual acts between same-gendered couples can meet the biblical criteria of "be fruitful and multiply," be blessed by the Church and God, and bear salvific fruit in the context of the Christian community and the world. This is, in fact, what I have repeatedly witnessed.

I pray you find this helpful for discussion and further understanding of the positions in the present debates.

Dan Martins said...

Richard wrote:
"You posit the notion of 'revealed' truth. Does that forestall the possibility that God might reveal more (either now or in the future)?"

Without suggesting that everybody has to do it this way, when I use the terms "reveal/ revealed/ revelation" I am speaking of both "general revelation" (aka "natural law") and "special revelation," of which scripture, interpreted through the Church's tradition, is the primary witness and record. In this sense, there is no further revelation. However, Christians obviously discern aspects of revelation that may not have been evident to earlier generations (such as with respect to slavery). It seems more appropriate to use terms like "illumination" rather than "revelation" for such ongoing discernment.

So I do not expect further revelation (in the technical sense) on the subject of sexual morality, though I cannot, on the basis of my own principles, discount the possibility of further illumination. In fact, I suspect we can all expect further illumination in ways we cannot now imagine.

BTW, I do not concede the point that "the Bible" condones slavery anywhere. The worst that can be said is that it is neutral. It simply accepts the reality of slavery as a human institution, without either condoning or condemning it.

The second question you pose--the appearance of "forced celibacy" on GLBT Christians--is admittedly a challenge to anyone's compassionate instincts. It is to mine, at any rate. But your question seems to presuppose a premise I am not ready to accept, which is that the chance to bond in a sexual relationship is a basic human right. Recently on a listsev I frequent, someone linked to a situation in which a hospice program run by Roman Catholics cooperated in procuring the services of a "sex worker" for a dying young man who expressed a desire to have intercourse before he died. The implication of the post was that we would naturally feel tremendous compassion for this man, and see his situation as a difficult moral dilemma. Well, I didn't shed too many tears of sympathy. Plenty of heterosexuals go through life unpartnered, not because they plan it that way, but because, for a variety of reasons, that's just what happens. Men who are married to women their own age usually retain their sex drive quite some time after their wives' has waned. Are we to have an outpouring of compassion for them, and make allowances for the reinstitution of the biblical practice of concubinage? I don't think so. You don't have to have sex to be fulfilled as a human being.

Your application of Matthew 18:18-20 to the problem at hand is certainly arresting. I will not here attempt to exegete the passage, but it's a moot point with respect to where my own understanding of a (divinely revealed) negative moral assessment of intercourse between persons of the same sex is grounded. Unlike some others who would take a conservative view, Leviticus and Romans figure only tangentially for me. My argument is more from Reason than from either Scripture or Tradition. It is teleological, an argument "from design"--or evolutionary biology, if you will.

Also unlike some others of the "conservative" label, I am not closed to a degree of pastoral flexibility with respect to caring for gay and lesbian persons. Quiet, even tacit, pastoral flexibility. But the church, per se, simply lacks the authority to, as you put it, "extend the privileges of marriage" in an official and formal way. It would be to invoke God's blessing on that which, by its nature, falls short of God's revealed ideal. And as I write, I completely understand that this might come across as patronizing. I don't mean it to be, but if it sounds that way--so be it.

Richard, you have an awesome blog and I appreciate this opportunity to engage you.

R said...

Dan,

Thank for the generosity of your time and attention to my questions, and your kind words about my blog. Likewise, I am honored to be in this conversation with you.

Like you, I find the Levitical arguments, as well as those from the Letter to the Romans over-wrought in the debate at hand. Their concerns seem to focus, in context both textual and cultural, on very different concerns than the matters before us. They strike me, too, at best as tangential.

I am interested to know what you make of current exegesis recovering texts (particularly in the Old Testament) as examples of covenant in same-sex relationships (whether physically sexual or not is less important to me, but I will return to that point in a moment.) I'm thinking particularly of the covenants made between Ruth and Naomi and between David and Jonathan. There is also the neutral-to-positive way Jesus treats the loving relationship of the centurion and his boy or servant ("pais"), which may or may not have been sexual in nature. That these are suggestive only, I will admit, but do they open the door in the Scriptural record far enough for us to see possible accommodation for our LGBT sisters and brothers?

Where I might dare to pick up your distinction between "revelation" and "illumination," it seems to me possible that we are in an age where at last we may see illumined our historical heterosexual bias (conditioned, of course, by culture as well as natural biological bias in terms of population percentage) and find, in fact, evidence that some of the biblical authors saw goodness in same-gendered covenant.

What concerns me about your position is that it appears to boil down to concerns about sex itself, and, in particular, anatomy. Three points I'd like to make in disagreement:

1) I would be the last to argue a healthy marriage is rooted ultimately in sex, and, like you, I am very willing to concede that sexual bonding is not a "human right" per se. But that begs the question still of eligibility. All things being equal, do we a priori rule out an entire group of individuals from such culturally/ecclesiologically sanctioned pairings? Put another way, I posted fairly recently a video documentary about a girl (who came out as a lesbian in a very conservative community in the Midwest) who asks her pastor (honestly, it seems to me) if she might spend the rest of her life with another woman (implying to me covenant) and yet not engage in sexual intercourse?

I can remember being attracted to girls before puberty -- but not for sex; rather for companionship. And I will be the first to admit that there are periods in my marriage that are chaste for a long time, and that these probably will increase in the future. It is my understanding that homosexual couples experience precisely the same thing. In short, sexual attraction and pairing may not always involve intercourse, which, while it is a beautiful sacramental thing to me, is not absolutely essential in either a) making a relationship "work" or b) prohibiting the covenantal union of two faithful adults to each other.

2) Contemporary science has uncovered remarkable similarities between men and women at various stages of development and life cycle -- vestigial organs, hormonal triggers, and a whole host of environmental factors that posit gender as more of a continuum than the traditionally understood bifurcated order (which brings the question of transgendered people into the argument). My point is simply that ontological arguments about male and female tend to be rooted only in "majority arguments" (what fits the most facts), but do not comprehend the full make-up of humanity. If indeed God in Christ is One and desires to "draw all things to himself," surely we must begin to take proper account of the experiences and humanity of those who have been historically marginalized and treated as aberrations simply because they are minorities and do not fully fit the bifurcated ontological schema: male - female / heterosexual. (That we have come a long way is in our cultural/theological rejection of light/dark, strong/weak, dominant/subservient, etc.) This to me lies, in part, at the crux of matters concerning ordination. It also points to the long string of sins of the Church in compartmentalizing Christians in various ways based on biological difference, once thought ontological, but now increasingly understood as simply a sign of human diversity. Again, our most ancient tradition reminds us that in "Christ there is neither male nor female. . .Jew nor Greek. . ."

3) Finally, in our age, there is widespread understanding that even within heterosexual relationships there is a wide variety of kinds of intercourse. Earlier, more conservative eras gave us, of course, very narrow definitions of what could be considered "holy sex" -- some of those laws remain on the books in some places. We laugh at some of them today. But this seems to me where a thoroughgoing biological argument leads -- the particularization of the body down to constituent specialized parts. Surely Christian orthodoxy suggests precisely the opposite about holy unions -- that they involve the entire person: body, mind, and spirit. Else marriage is based on fleeting moments in a relationship where particular parts of the body are "joined" according to the Divine plan? I mean not to paint your argument as silly, but only to wonder how it is appropriately nuanced in your mind so as to prevent it from reaching conclusions that might seem overly minimalist or particularizing in the extreme.

Tackling the teleological/biological argument more directly for a moment, there is increasing evidence that homosexuality is widely seen in the animal world as well. For whatever evolutionary reason, it may, in fact, be a naturally appearing part of the created order. Our biases, again, have made us blind to its presence, much as our assumption that slavery was just part of the world made us blind to the plight of peoples in bondage.

I don't claim your arguments and those of others are at all patronizing. But I do wonder if they take fully into account what has been illumined by contemporary empirical research -- the same sort that, in another era, wrought the Copernican revolution at a time the Church was dead set against the notion of anything other than an earth-centered universe. Please understand, I intend no patronization there, either (for heaven's sake, I know the polemic of "flat earthers" is more than painfully overwrought sometimes on "our side" -- it's just insulting!). But this is just a request to further understand. . .or simply to agree to disagree on this point.

I make no argument with you about the strange anecdote you tell about offering sexual favors in extremis. Granted the world is full of strange stories about sex (we as a species and a culture seem to collect them), but it seems to me the current matters under discussion are more "mainstream" in that they involve people leading otherwise fairly mundane and ordinary lives such as I lead, and I suppose, to some degree, you do as well.

With this, I will close simply by noting, I believe in agreement with you, that we live in a sex-obsessed culture. Sexual addiction is a real problem in our environment, as is the erroneous fascination with it as physically only, and devoid of moral content (as I admitted above). But this, to me, does not by any means rule out the very real needs of our LGBT brothers and sisters to live in holy relationships when they hear the call as we do, without bearing reproach or condemnation from their Church, their priests and ministers, or their God. Perhaps you might see me like Jacob wrestling in the wilderness on that one, but what I have learned in the company of my LGBT sisters and brothers invites me to dare to grapple even with God on this question.

Thank you again for the blessing of this time to discuss these matters faithfully.

My prayers remain with you, your ministry, and the Diocese of San Joaquin. As an important aside, I pray that you may find a way to remain a part of the Episcopal Church, and that we may find ways mutually to engage each other without fear or rancor as sisters and brothers in Christ in the days to come.

God's peace.

Dan moved the discussion to this new post on his blog, and continued from there (further comments also appear on his post):

I'm opting to move my ongoing exchange with Bay Area (Marin County, no less) blogger and parish priest Richard away from the comment thread on an old post, and here to a more prominent position. This is a serious and civil discussion that I (and a few others, it appears) are finding quite stimulating.

By way of laying some groundwork for a specific response to your most recent volley, Richard, let me say something about signs and symbols--and by extension, sacraments--because I'm probably going to get into some further consideration of body parts, and I want to establish at the outset that I take seriously your observation that bonded relationships of the sort we are discussing, while they may include a sexual dimension, cannot be defined or even substantially understood by what partners do with their various body parts. One of the axioms under which I am operating is that, for human beings--who, in distinction to all other animals, bear the image of God--pair-bonded relationships participate in a symbolic vocabulary that is integral to the character of those relationships. They cannot be wholly understood only in relation to the symbols with which they are associated, but neither can they be even partially understood apart from those symbols.

An analogy may be appropriate (though it may also open a whole new can of worms!). For the Church's Easter faith, the Risen Christ is, to a quite substantial degree, symbolized by the Empty Tomb. The mere datum that the women found the tomb empty on the first Easter morning certainly does not exhaust the meaning and importance of the Resurrection. The Risen Christ, many have contended, is so much more than a resuscitated corpse. True. But, I would submit, it is at least that much. To proclaim the Empty Tomb is not a sufficient accounting of the mystery of the Resurrection, but it is a necessary part of a sufficient accounting. The Risen Christ is about more than the Empty Tomb. But he is surely not about any less than that either.

Human relationships that are presumed to have a sexual component--including, of course, marriage, and also the sort of same-sex relationships for which ecclesial blessings are being sought--are certainly about more than what body parts go where under what circumstances. To talk about the physical act of sexual intercourse is not to sufficiently account for the reality of those relationships. But neither are those relationships about anything less than their sexual component. In fact, their sexual component is an essential symbolic key to their character, even as the Empty Tomb is an essential symbolic key to the Resurrection (and this holds, some would say, whether one actually believes in the Empty Tomb or not! In the same way, sex remains an important symbolic key to understanding pair-bonded human relationships, even when the participants in a particular such relationship are not, or no longer, having sex).

Now to some of the specific questions you put to me:

With respect to whether certain covenanted relationships in the Bible can be read as connoting a homoerotic dimension, I cannot say that I am very impressed by this argument. Just using the venerable principle of Occam's Razor (i.e. all things being equal, the simplest explanation of any set of circumstances is probably the best one), to suggest that there was anything sexual between Ruth and Naomi is beyond speculative; it is fanciful. If they were lovers, why would Naomi coach Ruth on how to seduce Boaz? And to suggest the same about David and Jonathan ignores David's relationships with Michal, Abigail, Bathsheba, and possibly even Abishag. The existence of these women is especially compelling if one is invested in the notion that orientation drives behavior; David is clearly not "gay" as that term is understood presently. As for the centurion and his pais--Is not this precisely the sort of exploitative relationship that some "progressive" apologists suggest is being talked about--and condemned--by Paul in Romans 1? I don't understand how any of this helps your argument, Richard. I don't see how such examples "open the door" in the way you would like them to.

As I mentioned above, I appreciate your comments about not allowing the physical mechanics of sexual relations to dominate our understanding of human pair-bonded relationships. I realize there is a host of reasons why two people--whether of the opposite sex or the same sex--might want to set up housekeeping together and rely on one another in various ways. And I have no desire to put up roadblocks in front of people who want to know some companionship and love in a world that is too often very bleak and lonely. But, let's face it, that isn't what this whole mess we're in as a church and as a society is about. What it's about is bonded pairs of the same sex wanting to be married to one another "with all the rights and privileges thereunto appertaining." The actual word "marriage" may not be used, but it is clear that what is sought is indeed marriage, even if by another name.

It is the very formality of such arrangements that makes them, in my view, morally objectionable. They presume to participate in the symbolic vocabulary of marriage, but they cannot, in fact, do so satisfactorily. They overreach. They may indeed enjoy some or even much of the "inward and spiritual grace" of the sacrament of marriage. (Trust me here: I'm going out on a limb saying this, and I reserve the right to scurry back to the trunk without notice!) But they cannot, by their very nature, share in the "outward and visible sign," and it is that outward and visible sign that we're talking about when the subject of public rites of blessing for same-sex relationships is on the table.

Same-sex relationships cannot naturally be signs of marriage; they have to improvise. Such couples cannot produce offspring as the fruit of their coition; they have to adopt (one of them, at least) in order to "start a family." Now, allow me to get a little graphic here--I apologize to readers who may be squeamish. Same-sex couples cannot even "have sex" without improvising. For two men to copulate, there must be a surrogate vagina. For two women, there must be a surrogate penis. (OK, I realize that latter situation is a little more subtle and complicated than my statement implies, but I think, on the whole, it still stands.)

Richard, you bring up evidence from animal behavior and other sorts of statistical indicators. It's late as I write, so I'm going to be perhaps a little more direct than I would like to be. (And I realize there are GLBT people "in the room" who have a quite personal stake in this, and who must feel as though I am being insufferably arrogant and condescending; I quite understand.) As a general principle, it is unwise to base policy on exceptional circumstances. I realize there is a certain percentage of the population for whom gender is an ambiguous experience. Such persons are real, and their experience is real, but they are exceptions. On the other hand, the phenomenon of gender polarity (what Tobias Haller likes to call sexual dimoprhism) is normative reality. It is the primary element in the symbolic vocabulary by which scripture and Christian tradition (and human experience across cultures) understand these issues that vex us. It is like the Empty Tomb, in that it is symbolically true even if one does not accept its literal truth. (For the record, I believe in the literal truth of the Empty Tomb.)

BTW, if it helps anyone to figure me out--the MBTI groupies, at any rate--I'm an INTJ.

I don't know whether I've wrapped anything up, but it's way past my bedtime.

R said...

Dan,

Thank you for furthering the conversation. I am by no means willing to hang a proof on the biblical passages I mentioned. I said they are merely suggestive. The cultural realities of the passages in question made a thoroughgoing, life-long same-gender bonding impossible, quite clearly. Naomi and Ruth lived in a patriarchal culture where their best path to survival was to marry a man. David had a dynasty to consider and demonstrates the classic conflation of sex and power (whether he was "gay" in the contemporary sense seems to me beside the point). Nor do I dispute (and certainly would condemn in the contemporary context) the potential pederastic relationship evident in the centurion and his pais -- although, as I understand it, the pais may also have been a young adult male. At any rate, for the sake of conversation, I am willing to put these passages aside, only noting that they do not form the center of my argument and to avoid our conversation falling into the trap of dueling hermeneutics. There are many fine scholars who have made our points for us on both sides, so I have no desire at this stage to push this any further.

I want to first address your assertion: "It is unwise to base policy on exceptional circumstances." This points back to my early majority-minority argument in terms of sexuality (not only human but in the greater natural world.) I can agree with you this much: that marriage between a man and a woman is normative for much of the human family. That is not under dispute here, it seems to me. What is under dispute is whether or not normative should be equated with exclusive. And I mean not to imply, either, that this question has a clearcut yes or no answer on either side.

But returning to my earlier point (advisedly, but I recognize the danger of circling in rehashed assertions and counter-assertions), the ultimate unity that God desires should, in my view, take the exceptions fully into account. In fact, I would argue we do this already: for heterosexual couples who cannot bear children, others for whom sexual intercourse is impossible, etc. Part of the unity we are after, in God's name no less, it seems to me, is to draw the "exceptions" or, as I prefer to call them, minority situations, into the sacramental life of the Church. Else we continue to perpetuate the divisions of the human family that, it seems to me, Christ comes to end.

I appreciate your illustrations of symbolic/sacramental language, as they helped me better understand your position. I still hear, though, an ontological argument rooted in the precise natural purpose for various organs of the body, and that all other combinations are "surrogates." Surely you and I would agree that were it the case (as is seen in parts of the animal world) that human sexuality were merely for procreation (necessitating vaginal, heterosexual intercourse), that we would not be interested in it except for that. Rather, the broad experience of humanity, it seems to me, demonstrates that sexual contact of all kinds (this is a fuzzy boundary, as merely kissing is considered sexual in some very conservative cultures) can demonstrate affection and self-giving charity.

Your argument also appears to me to extend to other non-sexual questions, such as adoption (as secondary in desirability to, say, biological procreation? Or do I misunderstand you?) That such an argument would be perceived by many as offensive, I agree, but setting aside the offense for a moment I see a suggested hierarchical order that again is rooted in majority over minority witness, experience, or argumentation, with the potential danger of being oppressive in practice, particularly as it is institutionalized by the Church.

Taking sex off the table for the moment, many adopted children I know would not posit they are any less children of their adoptive parents than biological offspring are or would be. Something deeper than mere biology has been at work in their family relationships that has made them children of their parents. On the other side, there are also biological children who, for reasons of abuse or neglect, feel they are simply not children of their parents.

Likewise, there are spouses in marriages who essentially live entirely separate lives (save for legal contractual arrangements). While, by contrast, there are homosexual couples who lead deeply intimate and mutually nurturing lives with no benefit of societal or Church sanction.

My point is this: I continue to question the proposition that the combination of particular parts of the sexual anatomy forms a core or central symbol of the married state. I believe something else entirely does -- something in which the entire married state (sex and all) is subsumed. So I have difficulty agreeing with the analogy you draw between the empty tomb/resurrected Christ and heterosexual vaginal intercourse/married state.

As an aside, I do believe the former is central to our faith (To address for a moment your apparent caution, I am not personally interested at this point in disputing matters of historical fact in the first century -- rather that my articulation of "Christ is Risen" comes from the real, tangible ways I witness the Risen Christ at work in our midst. For this reason, I take serious exception to any suggestion that I say the Creeds with my fingers crossed. This has figured heavily into the debates elsewhere, and I have no intention of seeing it rear its ugly head here, if you don't mind.)

But to build analogy from this for the relationship between heterosexual vaginal intercourse and marriage illustrates a foundational disagreement we have about marriage itself. I posit the relationship of marriage differently (and I think I have some backup from the tradition itself), and that sex is not part of the foundational symbolic vocabulary of marriage:

1) Christian marriage is built first and foremost on the recognition and love of Christ in another and a life of exclusive self-giving commitment to Christ in that person (hence, the sacramental action). The recognition of Christ in the other is, in my view, the central symbolic/theological vocabulary for marriage. I must stress that even our current marriage rites and vows do not mention sex, except in the most tangential ways (as in readings, perhaps from the Song of Solomon -- and even then this is not the intention of having the Song of Solomon in the liturgy to begin with!) The heart of marriage is found in the relationship of self-offering between Christ and the Church.

2) From the essential actions of marriage -- covenanting (as God in Christ covenants with us) and householding, or setting up a life together -- flows God's grace in transforming both lives into something greater than a mere combination, but a new and greater life that bears fruit in the community: hospitality, in some cases children, in other cases gifts of creativity, or a combination of all three and more. In short, the couple together become more Christ-like for each other and the greater world than they might apart and single.

3) Sexuality is subsumed or servant to this core vocation of marriage. Sex between married individuals is only one embodiment of the self-giving and mutual joy that the couple share, pointing to the self-giving that Christ calls us into and the giving of Christ to the Church and vice-versa. But sex is only one way to demonstrate this. It is not ultimately essential to marriage.

4) Great care must be taken to avoid articulating marriage as the only desirable state for Christians. The single life can be seen as generative and transformational depending upon context. Clearly, the single and celibate life has been upheld by Christian tradition for ages.

Single or married are both vocational calls that are best discerned in and through the support of Christian community. Most of us live singly as a provisional vocation for a good portion of our lives, simply because marriage is not possible or desirable.

Gender, then, it seems to me, becomes far less important, although I will concede this demands of us a review of the traditional theological understandings of marriage (rooted in patriarchal culture) that Paul uses in some of his writing (Christ as the bridegroom, the servile Church as bride.) But, as has been pointed out elsewhere, Franciscans for centuries have posited men becoming "brides" for Christ, bringing this theological language out of essentializing male/female biology and reconciling Paul's language about marriage with other passages of his that in Christ there is no longer "male or female."

Again, none of this is to say that marriages between men and women will no longer be normative in the Church -- but again that is only because the natural majority of our members are likely to be heterosexual.

What is transformative and holy about all relationships, sexual or otherwise, is the divinely-inspired love that binds them together and utterly changes the make-up of the individuals over time through relationship. This is, it seems to me, more broadly speaking, the sacramental action and God's grace at work. It is this quality of the centrality of relational love that to me best parallels the empty tomb/risen Christ symbol. It also speaks to ways love works in Christian friendship, and puts sexual behavior in its proper context without, on the one hand, elevating it to idolatry, or, on the other, denigrating it to something casual or unholy.

Grandmère Mimi said...

Dan, a very interesting and civil discussion, indeed. What a relief to find such a discussion that does not include name-calling and ad hominem attacks. I thought the conversation needed a woman's touch, therefore, I chimed in. Because of my nom de blog, it is obvious that I am female and not young. I find that, more often than I would like, the conversation tends to circle around me rather than include me.

I call your attention to this comment of mine at Richard's blog, and, while I realize that it probably has little effect on the discussion between you and Richard, I think that your statement that I quote below is incorrect.

Dan, I must take exception to this comment of yours, "Men who are married to women their own age usually retain their sex drive quite some time after their wives' has waned." I don't think that is true at all. I have not, just now, checked out what surveys say, but if my memory serves me well, they show many women retain the sex drive well beyond menopause. A minor point, perhaps, but a reason why the women's voice needs to be heard.

Ofentimes, the men wear out before the women, thus the huge sales of Viagra.

Mystical Seeker said...

I wanted to comment on the statement that same-sex relationships necessarily involve improvisation, while [different-sex] relations do not. There are two problems that I see with that statement. First, there is the assumption that improvisation in sex is somehow bad, unnatural, contrary to the natural order, or otherwise proof of inferiority in the natural order of things. Second, there is the assumption that heterosexual couples do not, or are never forced to, improvise because of physical limitations. . .

The way that men and women please each other frequently involves improvisation. . . [Mystical Seeker here pointed to numerous examples of improvisation widely recognized in heterosexual relationships, and also cited bobonos for their wide-ranging sexual behavior in the natural world].

What makes human intellgence so wonderful is our ability to improvise, to overcome obstacles that nature puts in our way. If we didn't do that, we'd be stuck in the dark ages. Not only is there nothing wrong with improvisation, I think we should be celebrating it as an example of the triumph of the human imagination. And it is God who gave us that imagination. Thank God for that.

Charles said...

All,

I trepidate and joining this conversation. All interlocutors seem practiced and fluent in these matters, I will gird myself and try to add something of value.

First, as the son of a Lesbian, I can certainly attest to the serious affection that is reciprocated between my mother and her partner. Holidays with my mother and her partner are the most pleasant and I dare say their hospitality (with all the attendant sub-sacraments of food, drink, music, and chatting) out stripes the warmth and conviviality of my hetero-sexual father and his wife. I just want to be on the record as one who is a beneficiary of the non-coital existential dimension of their relationship and of its natural loving outreach. I would also like to say that I have a dear friend in my mothers partner, for whom I have the most earnest affection.

Second, I do agree with Father Dan, though I can not articulate it nearly so elegantly in such fine post-modern parlance.

Richard, I would respectfully take issue with you on a couple of points in hopes that you would respond to them in kind. Before I begin though, I assume that we can all agree that what one does does not create or underwrite one's nature (in an ontological sense) -- in essence, you are "not" what you eat. I say this because I see this as a philosophical error articulated by both hardened Protestants who argue for capital punishment on the grounds that the person has forfeited his own human nature, hence the jus of life, and on the other hand from certain progressives that seek warrant for certain types of behaviors since it must be a kind of expression which underwrites their own identity (without which they would auto-extinguish). Keep in mind, I am saying this with the full realization that, as you say, there is a "kind" of sacramentality (in a literary sense -- like in Moby Dick where Queequeg and Ishmael share the marriage bed) that is achieved in the common life of same-sex partnered persons. I, like Father Dan, reserve the right to qualify this if pressed.

Moving on, I do not think it is sound that we appeal to your political metaphor to qualify the moral shape of partnered relationships. Now, there is a way in which I am totally wrong, but hear me out. I think there is a tad of abuse going on when we take the hoi oligoi , whoever they may be, and plant them next to the poor and the peacemakers because as a factor of volume, they are all in the margins. In essence can we morally exonerate minorities qua minorities. Likewise, I would defend patriarchy against the stigma it has accrued. I will use a common shibboleth of the Republican Party to prove my point. Republicans are know in times past to say: "Small government is good government." We all know this is false. It should be "Good government is good government." By this I mean, patriarchy is not bad, rather, bad patriarchy is bad. By the same token, there are good majorities and evil minorities. Likewise the possession of a monopoly on violence as a factor majority, or imagined majority (the police don't put you in jail, the people do) does not make a majority bad, pernicious, or implicitly corrupted. We cannot exploit some prevailing cultural (or sub-cultural) abstractions by trying to have them do the work that only persons can do.

Next I would go on along the same lines as Father Dan and start bloviating about ontology and teleology, but it is also past my bedtime. I will return soon.

in XC,
Charles

R said...

Charles,

Good that you joined the conversation. If I understand your two counter-points correctly:

1) I have no intention of arguing that behavior must be accepted if people argue it underwrites their identity. Indeed, we would be agreed some very bad actors in both history and probably our own lives have argued such to defend wickedness. My argument does not set aside that we must measure the fruits of the relationships that are seeking holy blessing. This applies to heterosexual marriage just as much as homosexual, in my view. No priest is obliged to marry anyone. What I am arguing against is assuming a priori against homosexual unions on the grounds that they are a) ontologically impossible (which experience seems to demonstrate to me is false), or b) they are fundamentally flawed in some sense (which would point to pathology -- either spiritual, clinical, or both). Again, I do not see this as the case.

2) Your second point is well taken, and perhaps I got the proverbial cart before the horse. Again, it was not my intention to argue all minorities are good ones. I assumed the minority in this case (LGBT) essentially as created in the imago dei. I think where there might be some misunderstanding is that I was not intending a political argument per se, but one rooted in majority/minority manifestations of biology (sexual orientation), that have no intrinsic moral dimension except as we act on them. That much, I hope we would agree. Where the question does become political and ecclesiological is in how we address the call into sacred relationship in the LGBT community, or how we (as has occurred historically) dismiss this as aberrant or unnatural, or worse. Oppression is a reality, and I mean nothing liberal nor conservative by that statement. It just is. It is well documented, it seems to me.

I will not endeavor to argue with you here regarding patriarchy -- surely we have all known truly benevolent patriarchs! You have certainly called me out, though, on my biases, so point well-taken. Again, though, I believe this is tangential to my central argument:

That the scriptural and traditional witness is that relationships are blessed by God where they are bearing good fruit in community and discerned as Christ-filled. That in Christ there is no longer male nor female, at least in any ontological sense. And my personal witness is that LGBT Christians who oare so called can and do (with or without the Church's support) enter holy unions that show all the primary fruits of Christian charity that heterosexual marriages can, and therefore should not be denied the blessing of the Church, inasmuch as it publicly hallows what is good and gracious in the lives of the faithful.

Dan moved the discussion to yet a third post on his blog:

To Mystical Seeker:
As a middle-aged male, making broad generalizations about the sexual satisfaction of women is way above my pay grade. Suffice it to say that I am aware of divergent testimony on the matter you addressed.

To Grandmère Mimi:
I take your point. How 'bout we agree that, as couples age, the libidinal disparity between the partners tends to increase, causing a de facto state of "enforced abstinence" on one of them.

To Charles:
Your prose is plenty elegant, but this is the first time mine has been accused of being post-modern!

To Richard:
First, let me remove any suspicion that I may have implied that you cross your fingers when you say the creed. That thought has never entered my mind.

I agree with you that an extended point-counterpoint exchange over a narrow range of subjects invokes the law of diminishing returns rather quickly. Plus, it just gets boring. I find it both more helpful and more interesting to explore the underlying suppositions that lead us to different pragmatic conclusions on the questions that vex the church we both love.

I'm not sure of all that this might mean, but it seems potentially significant that I tend to speak of "norms and exceptions to the norm" while you favor the language of "majority and minority" (presumably both within the range of "normal"). These two paradigms certainly have their similarities, but they are also importantly different. Why is it that you embrace one and I embrace the other--I'm suspecting, without a lot of conscious intent?

Here's a theory: It seems plausible that you (and many who share your point of view) begin with the pastoral reality that there are gay and lesbian persons who "profess and call themselves Christians," and from there seek to articulate an idealistic construct that supports a robust ministry of inclusion. In the meantime, I (and many who share my point of view) begin with an ideal that we perceive as divinely revealed, and from there seek to find pastoral practices that minister to those whose experience diverges from that ideal, but without sacrificing the ideal. Could this be a speciation of the distinction between the Top-Down and Bottom-Up methods of doing theology?

You have suggested that my position is based on ontology. As far as I know my own mind (which is a significant qualifier!), the distinction I want to make is less ontic than semiotic. It's about the sign value of human relationships--sign values that exist despite the particular qualities of particular relationships that may not literally manifest that sign. I will confess that my view is substantially similar, though not identical, to that of the Roman Catholic Church, in that I would contend that the telos of sexual coupling is ordered toward reproduction. That is the primary sign. There are other benefits, from the unitive to the recreative, but they are ancillary and cannot be divorced from the primary sign. Heterosexual copulation looks like something that can be fecund, even when, in any given relationship, it cannot. But that gets into territory we've already traversed, and I sort of promised not to do that!

R said...

It seems plausible that you (and many who share your point of view) begin with the pastoral reality that there are gay and lesbian persons who "profess and call themselves Christians," and from there seek to articulate an idealistic construct that supports a robust ministry of inclusion. In the meantime, I (and many who share my point of view) begin with an ideal that we perceive as divinely revealed, and from there seek to find pastoral practices that minister to those whose experience diverges from that ideal, but without sacrificing the ideal. Could this be a speciation of the distinction between the Top-Down and Bottom-Up methods of doing theology?

Dan, I think I would agree with this characterization of our differences. Speaking for myself, I am most interested in articulating my faith as "incarnational" -- in a nutshell, what God in Christ reveals in the very tangible lives I most closely engage with and serve. One might posit this as experience, but I see it subsumed in the traditional Anglican category of reason (a la Richard Hooker). This leads me, as well, to recognize and value diversity across the church Catholic, as God is manifested in different cultures and locations in different ways.

Not to imply, of course, that I dismiss revealed truth in the Church Tradition or Scriptures, anymore than I would assume you dismiss the incarnational realities and experiences of Christ in the others you meet in your day to day ministry and life. But only to say that the revealed truth we have received may well be understood and applied in different ways through the way it is incarnate in our different locations.

Nor do I mean to imply that there aren't any universal truths. I believe that there are, but they are few and broad enough to encompass a remarkably wide range of incarnational witness.

So I agree, we may be starting at different points and hence reaching different conclusions.

I think it is clear we disagree about the primary sign of marriage being biological reproduction, while admitting exceptions for a variety of reasons, and hence requiring male-female pairing. It appears I take the meaning of the "be fruitful and multiply" divine directive much more broadly, seeing the primary sign of marriage in the benefits of Christ revealed more in the community through the couple, an incarnational revelation which may or may not involve children (biological or otherwise.)

In addition to the Christological/incarnational basis of marriage I posited earlier, I think I am also attracted to the notion of marriage as vocation or call to serve Christ in another, as that reminds me that I don't "marry" couples. They marry each other. And, as I have been taught, for this reason they are the primary celebrants of the sacrament in the liturgy.

I would like to venture to suggest that, while we have focused here largely on our differences, there is also much we still agree on, and emphasize again that my support of same-sex blessings does not intend to set aside the very best elements of traditional marriage. Some have argued (successfully, in my view) that same-gendered blessings may in fact illumine the very best in heterosexual marriages.

Returning to what you wrote above, would you regard the present arrangement in the Episcopal Church (protests from some of the Primates notwithstanding) of local pastoral provisions for same-sex blessings within the parameters of, as you put it, seeking "to find pastoral practices that minister to those whose experience diverges from that ideal, but without sacrificing the ideal"?

Dan Martins said...

To Richard, with respect to his final question in the above comment:

The "current arrangement"? No. The current arrangement is embodied in C051 from GC '03, which explicitly recognizes public blessings of same-sex unions as "within the bounds of our common life." This gives formal, church-wide recognition to the practice, and that is a "bridge too far" for me.

How about the pre-2003 status? This is a possibility. I think if we had left things there we would not be suffering what we're going through now as a communion. "Progressives" could be blessing unions when permitted by the Ordinary, and "orthdox" could plausibly retort that they (the "progressives," that is) are acting outside the norm. Nobody would have completely what they want, but all would have a leg to stand on.

I believe the public voice of the church, speaking to the world, needs to say, "Same-sex coupling falls short of the only norm on which we have authority from God to invoke God's blessing." I also believe the pastoral voice of the church, spoken quietly and unofficially to persons who find themselves in a category that I would call "exceptional" and Richard would call "a minority," and wish the church's support in maintaining a stable relationship, should be: "We will not judge or condemn the choice you have made, and we will help you look for God's sustaining grace and love, even within your relationship." But it's not marriage, and there should be no prayers or rituals that purport to make it look like marriage, or be "para-marital."

Anonymous said...

"We will not judge or condemn the choice you have made, and we will help you look for God's sustaining grace and love, even within your relationship".

I thought you had affirmed that it what not a "choice"?

Dan Martins said...

Anonymous, I affirmed that orientation is not a choice. Setting up housekeeping is a choice, and that is the "choice" I referred to in the passage from my last comment that you quote. Thank-you for the opportunity to clarify.

R said...

Dan,

Thank you for answering my questions so directly and clearly.

I don't have anything additional to bring to the conversation at this point, but I certainly want to leave the invitation open to you for further discussion either now or at a later date. Your blog or mine. . . :)

I don't think either of us expected to "solve" anything with our engagement here, but I have found it personally helpful to better understand your position and see how it is reflected to some degree in the current conflicts in the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion. And I am profoundly grateful for the space to attempt to articulate, albeit not all that adeptly, my position as well.

However much I may disagree with you regarding what we discussed here and stand in solidarity with my LGBT brothers and sisters in Christ, I still offer you my continued regard as a fellow Christian on the Way. And I certainly mean never to impugn all that is good, holy, and just in your life and ministry in the midst of God's people.

Please know my prayers are with you, the people of St. John's, and the Diocese of San Joaquin, in the ongoing hope that we may indeed yet find a way to remain in Communion together without sacrificing where we hear God's call to us and our communities.

Your brother in Christ,

Richard

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