Zebra Book, Revisited

“OK; this morning we want to talk about the Zebra Book.” I had already been through a thoroughly confusing Sunday morning worship service, juggling two books and a leaflet, stumbling over unfamiliar language. Did I just say that I was “not worthy so much as to gather up crumbs under this thy table?” What did that mean? And yet, as the weeks went by, as I got more used to the Book of Common Prayer, I became infatuated. As I used the Book not just on Sunday mornings, but also in my daily prayers, I found the language to be quite beautiful. With repetition, the prayers began to speak to me deeply. I learned that the “Zebra Book” was one of several trial prayer books distributed throughout the denomination as the Episcopal Church approached the adopting of a new prayer book, and did so in 1979. At that time the Church was ready to change. However, I also learned about the difficulties the prayer book revision caused Episcopalians who did not want to let go of the 1928 edition. I watched both the efforts to minister to those who were upset, as well as the commitment to a desire to worship in a way that was relevant to a new time. I was moved and impressed; I embraced the Episcopal Church as my own.

Learning more deeply about the history and theology of the Episcopal Church has increased my appreciation for the working of the Church. Not being part of a “confessing church" like other Protestants, and not having to follow theological dogma from church leadership as Roman Catholics do, it is, in fact, the Book of Common Prayer that holds us together. Lex orandi, lex credendi, “What we believe is what we pray.” This is the theological overview of the Anglican ethos. Since we are committed to praying together with the Book of Common Prayer, this community activity is the highest form of Anglican theology and doctrine. Imagine my delight with the 1979 prayer book which gave such variety and breadth in terms of both corporate and personal worship. Not only did we carefully preserve the poetic Elizabethan language, we added sensitive, responsive, instructive language. A new awareness was born in us as a people when we began to declare in prayer that ours is “a fragile earth, our island home.”

So where am I going with this personal testimony and historical exposition? Since 1990, the General Convention has discussed the issue of developing a service for the Church's blessing the commitment of a same gender relationship. Today, we are poised to authorize the appropriate committees of the Church to prepare these liturgies. This morning, Tuesday, the House of Bishops is scheduled to discuss Resolution CO56 (text included below), which states that at the next General Convention the expectation is that a rite will be added to the authorized services of the Episcopal Church, hopefully an addition to the Book of Common Prayer.

My point is that our expansive and inclusive Prayer Book, thanks to all the work done with the “Zebra Book" and others in the 1970s, will again lead the Church into a deeper understanding of the Reign of God described in the Gospels. It is evident that the Holy Spirit has been working hard in the Episcopal Church here in Anaheim and well before we arrived here. This morning, in what many see as the most unlikely of places, the meeting of the House of Bishops, the Episcopal Church is poised to present to world outside these walls a profoundly new vision.

Resolved, the House of Deputies concurring, that the Standing Commission on Liturgy and Music, in consultation with the House of Bishops Theology Committee, collect and develop theological resources and liturgies of blessing for same-gender holy unions, to be presented to the 77th General Convention for formal consideration, and be it further

Resolved, that the Standing Commission on Liturgy and Music, in consultation with the House of Bishops Theology Committee, devise an open process for the conduct of its work in this matter, inviting participation from dioceses, congregations, and individuals who are or have already engaged in the study or design of such rites throughout the Anglican Communion, and be it further

Resolved, that all bishops, noting particularly those in dioceses within civil jurisdictions where same-gender marriage, civil unions, or domestic partnerships are legal, may provide generous pastoral response to meet the needs of members of this Church; and be it further

Resolved, that honoring the theological diversity of this Church, no bishop or other member of the clergy shall be compelled to authorize or officiate at such liturgies, and be it further

Resolved, that the Anglican Consultative Council be invited to conversation regarding this resolution and the work that proceeds from it, together with other churches in the Anglican Communion engaged in similar processes.

Minority report from Bishop Henry N. Parsley:

I offer the minority opinion that in the 3rd resolve the substitute should read, "Resolved, that in dioceses within civil jurisdictions where same gender marriage or civil unions are legal, the bishop may provide a generous pastoral response to meet the needs of the members of this church."

Prayers Count

“Mon Dieu, Papa,” the prayer started, and I immediately felt hot tears forming . Maybe it was my fatigue, or the stress I had felt in the hearing room for an hour and a half, but when the Bishop of Haiti, Jean Zache Duracin, started the closing prayer with the words “my God, Papa” I was moved by a deep sense of personal connection between the pray-er, the bishop of the largest, and arguably the poorest, diocese in the Episcopal Church, and his God. Unbidden, the ancient and most problematic of all questions came to mind, “How much does the suffering of a person or people have to do with the depth of relationship between the sufferer and God?” I knew that I was witness to an intimate and powerful family moment.

It was a tough decision. But I’m glad I woke early enough to be present in the hearing room at 6:45 for a continuing discussion by the Committee on World Mission. There are twenty-five different committees meeting throughout the ten days of Convention. They are responsible for all that happens: the nuts and bolts of the running of the event, the preparation of the Church's budget, the drafting of legislation. Bishops and Deputies serve on each committee to ensure that voices from both houses are heard. World Mission is the committee that is most concerned with the relationship between The Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion at large. That means that at this Convention, many of the resolutions that have to do with the tension between the global Church and the Episcopal Church, the issues around the role of human sexuality, are being vetted by World Missions. It’s a very large group with some terrifically talented people.

There are at least thirteen separate resolutions that address actions taken by previous General Conventions and Lambeth Conferences (the decennial meeting of all the bishops of the Anglican Communion) concerning the appropriateness of people in same gendered relationships being ordained in the Church. One of the most controversial of these previous pieces of legislation was passed in the waning moments of the last convention in 2006. It was called B033 and it asked for a moratorium on the consecration of bishops who are in same gender relationship. B033 was seen at the time as an attempt to show good faith towards that part of the international church upset by the consecration of Gene Robinson; it was seen by others as a repudiation of that same action. Many who voted for B033 in 2006, myself included, have had serious misgivings about that action for the past three years.

Thirteen separate resolutions presented to the committee were distilled into one, complex one, that was the topic of conversation this morning (I’ll post it early next week, as soon as it looks like it’s in a final form). It was scrutinized, parsed, and dissected at great length, but in the end was accepted by the majority of the committee members from the House of Deputies; however, members of the House of Bishops were not so clear on their thoughts.

Ray Suarez, of the Jim Lehrer News Hour on NPT and member of St. Columba’s in Washington, D.C., preached at this morning’s Eucharist. It was a stunning sermon and I commend it to you; hopefully, it will be posted on the Episcopal Church website soon. He called us to be "that blessed company of all faithful people" which the Prayer Book talks about. It sounds like “family talk” to me, much like that powerful beginning to the prayer of Bishop Duracin. But are we all talking about the same family? For those bishops who voted against the resolution proposed this morning, and others who will take exception to it when it becomes public, I wonder about their definition of the family, the community of all the faithful. We yearn to call this our God in the most intimate of ways, our nurturing and loving parent. Yet at the same time, there are those who want to define for this God what family means, or at least who is included and in what capacity. Rather than an embrace, this seems like a repudiation of the God I heard so meaningfully called forth in the prayer of the Bishop of the suffering people of Haiti: the God who stands for and with all peoples everywhere, who have no voice, who are in poverty of body and spirit, who are marginalized, denied justice. I, for the life of me, cannot understand how to reconcile the two.

"Boots and Saddles"

“Boots and Saddles” was the rallying cry familiar to those of the Seventh Cavalry of the United States Army, an organization my father was a member of while I was growing up. Crisp blue uniforms with distinctive yellow piping running down the trouser seam, epaulets on the shoulders, shining medals and that fascinating clinking, gleaming saber! A wild-eyed child, I marveled at this wondrous vision. I learned early on the overt and the meta messages that are telegraphed by dress.

Bishops in polos, deputies in business suits; flip flops and loafers, baseball caps and Stetsons--the sartorial diversity of this General Convention is a thing to behold. There was a time, indeed, just a generation ago, when clergy (who were all men) wore black suits and clerical collars. All lay men (the House of Deputies was comprised solely of men until 1967…1967) wore suits and ties, and the women of the Episcopal Church, who since the 1930’s held an event concurrent with General Convention called the Episcopal Church Women Convention, wore hats and gloves at all public events. Even though there is now, through the grace of God, full access to all orders and organizations of the Church to all women (unless, of course, they are partnered lesbians) the Episcopal Church women still meet concurrently with General Convention. We continue to recognize and hold up the efforts of Episcopal women of all times and places.

Other than a short discourse on the sartorial practices of the Episcopal Church at General Convention and the triennium gathering of the ECW; and a personal comment on my childhood, what could possibly be the reason for these words? Or put in a different way, is there something we can say about the nature of this Convention by anything as mundane as the way people are dressing? I believe the answer is" yes." I believe that are we moving to a new place. Indeed, the very reason for why we are here, what we are about in these ten days, is all about being part of a new thing, about being in a new place. My sense is that our tee shirts and Bermuda shorts are symbols, symbols of the Church, which, in the words of the prophet Isaiah, are making all things new. Are we beginning to see each other, not as separated by definition, whether that be clergy or lay, rich or not so rich, male or female, gay or straight, but as one in relationship? This…this may be the startling gift of the 76^th General Convention. As informally, and formally attired as it is, this assembly is poised to give not just the Episcopal Church, but the world outside its sanctuary walls something so sorely needed.

Looking for Leadership

He is, without a doubt, a prodigiously intelligent and, I truly believe, deeply spiritual man. Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, is for all the distinctive flyaway hair, bushy beard and large eyeglasses, a man of lyrical proportions. Slight of build, although of average height, Archbishop Rowan chose to sit for his presentation last night, rather than stand, as Presiding Bishop Katharine did for hers. This meant that I found myself watching the Archbishop’s hands as he spoke. They curved through the air in such a way as to shape the very words he was saying. Like brush strokes from a painter’s brush, his hands gave his words color and meaning. Yet I felt no invitation in them-- erudition and deep thought, certainly, being privy to an elegant endeavor-- but no invitation to join in.

Archbishop Williams' acceptance to attend and speak to this General Convention was a very big deal, although played down in its significance across the Anglican Communion. He had refused, after all, to attend the Convention three years ago in Columbus. Would some who are outside the American Church see this as an acquiescent gesture on his part? By his presence, is he condoning the actions of the Episcopal Church, seen so unfavorably by others, notably some Anglicans in Africa and the Southern Hemisphere?

If Rowan Williams was willing, as is evidently the case, to accept this criticism, he and the shapers of the evening’s event were not going to engage directly in any Church controversy. Bishop Katharine, Archbishop Rowan and three young Episcopalians working in the fields of environment, justice and global health all spoke eloquently about the effects of the current global crises. It was a rich and meaningful conversation. However, I had the feeling that the Archbishop was like the visitor who studiously avoids the puddle the puppy left on the living room floor. I do not suggest that the issues causing such consternation are distasteful or inconvenient, but rather say there are those, including those on whom we rely for leadership, who act as if they are.

There was much anticipation Thursday morning as the time approached for the daily Eucharist; the Archbishop was scheduled to preach. Would there be any new word about how he felt and what he thought, personally, about the Episcopal Church and the actions we have taken in past Conventions? He was much more personal, expressing gratitude for the role the American Church has taken, even apologizing for actions taken by Churches outside the United States. His sentiments were heartfelt and, at least by me, welcome. Then, as has happened so often in the past, the Archbishop said, “I hope you take no actions that will push us further apart.”

Push us further apart? It is not universally accepted that anything the Episcopal Church did is what broke us apart. Some of us chose to move away from the rest of us. This is a very old and tired argument. It’s time for us, while we have the opportunity at this Convention, to move forward, beyond the arguments and justifications. It is the time for bold and powerful leadership; may God send it now.

Ubuntu!

"Ubuntu." The word is everywhere this week at General Convention. Ubuntu. It has a rich, melodic sound, coming from down in the diaphragm. Try saying it with a squeaky voice; you can’t, can you? I first became familiar with the term in my studies of the theology of Desmond Tutu. What had given this diminutive yet leonine Anglican clergyman the courage to stand up to the racist ways of an entire nation? What had kept him going through the years of bloodshed and trauma? As I learned more about who Tutu was, and what gave him his vision, I realized it was Ubuntu. It is not something the Archbishop made up; rather, it comes from the deepest part of his tradition. It is, for Tutu and for many cultures in subequatorial Africa, a worldview, an overarching, organizing principle. Its essence is that there is no such thing as an individual without placing that person with the context of the community: “There is no I without Us.”

Gathering for the first legislative session this morning, the Rev. Frank Wade, retired Rector of St. Alban’s Church, Washington, DC and chaplain to the House of Deputies used the theme of this gathering, Ubuntu, to organize his opening remarks. He described an incident several months ago, flying to Los Angeles to participate in planning for convention. Frank had been, he said, deep in contemplation about this foreign yet compelling idea during the long flight from Washington. “I thought I had a handle on it,” he said. Then, upon landing he looked up at the airport sign and read, “John Wayne Airport.” Suddenly it hit him. His was a time and a culture that had long valued just the opposite of Ubuntu. John Wayne’s movie characters had been formed on just about as un-Ubuntu as one can get. Clearly, for us this notion of Ubuntu is going to take some work. We, as a culture, are not used to thinking about the Us and not the I. Actually, we seem to be all about the I. Isn’t that exactly why we’re in the economic mess we’re in?

Yet, this way of relating may mean something new and different for the working of the General Convention, for the Episcopal Church and for all of us. For those working here in Anaheim there is the possibility that we can work for some kind of consensus in doing the business of the Church. Maybe we can begin to lay down the deep polarizations and have meaningful conversations about what brings us together. Archbishop Tutu’s belief in Ubuntu, and our ability to embrace it, holds an even more profound meaning. For it is through this strange, African way that we all, each and every rugged individual, church leader and human being at large, may begin to realize and truly understand that when one person is diminished, one person denied his or her God-given privileges and rights, then we are all diminished. If anyone is left out, then we are all left out.

How strange, and how wonderful that this most African of notions, in the shadow of Disneyland and the John Wayne Airport might find root in the Episcopal Church and grow, beyond all our imaginings. Although something tells me even this would not surprise Desmond Tutu.