At this point, I wish to switch from the strictly narrative to the personal. As has now been noted in my earlier posting, I was in error regarding the necessity of a two-thirds majority vote for Resolution One (I plead as my excuse that I heard someone with a track record in the Diocese remark upon it in my district meeting and took it on faith instead of consulting the canons.) I find at the end of two very long days that I am troubled. I am no more troubled about my vote than I was before; amidst a multitude of evils I believe it to have been the right choice. What concerns me is the temper that I see emerging among the majority, of which I still consider myself a member. It is a temper of loyalty at all cost, to person and practice as well as to principle. It is a temper that speaks to the solidarity of the elect and has little time for the more quirkish orthodox spirits that inhabit this Diocese. One almost wonders if the spirit of fear is less a fear of what those outside can do to us and more of how reliable our fellow conservatives will be.
I believe there are measures of orthodox Christianity and that they should govern our leadership choices. Sadly, it would seem, we are now demanding a ”˜higher’ standard. As I listened to some conservatives speak today about the climate of intimidation, I couldn’t help but feel that they were missing the point of Bishop’s Duncan’s sermon yesterday in which he reminded us that Christians are called to suffering and ostracism and rejection. If a decision is ”˜right,’ why should it alarm us to be called upon to state it? What price conscience, without cost? If our enemies behave badly ”“ and some of them have done and are doing so ”“ it does not exempt us from behaving well. I am loyal to my Bishop in large measure because I believe he has a better sense of balance than some of those who proclaim themselves to be his most loyal supporters. I disagree with some of his judgments, but I have never faulted his sense of pastoral care.
Let us at least be clear among ourselves. We are witnessing the passing of something that was at the core of Anglican identity here in Pittsburgh and at the core of Anglican witness in the United States until now. The loss will not simply be the loss of liberal friends but will almost certainly be the loss of assurance and perhaps of the orthodox ”˜diversity’ to which we have been so long accustomed. It behooves those who know that beyond the veil there is perfect freedom, to remember the rest of us who will walk that way certainly in uncertainty, perhaps in pain, because they know that to remain where they are is much the more perilous.
I know exactly what you mean by “orthodox ‘diversity'”– I consider myself to be a fully converted orthodox Christian; I left TEC several years ago for AMiA; I suppost Bishop Robert Duncan’s actions and words wholeheartedly. Having said that, the very last thing that I want is to find myself goose-stepping into the Kingdom of God with a lot of dreary and unimaginative people who do not realize that orthodoxy simply describes the boundaries of the faith– the shape of the faith; the periphery of the faith. Within those boundaries; within the clearly delineated outline of “mere Christianity” there is a LOT of room for robust and untidy spirituality. If you knopw what I mean…
[b]”It is a temper of loyalty at all cost, to person and practice as well as to principle. It is a temper that speaks to the solidarity of the elect and has little time for the more quirkish orthodox spirits that inhabit this Diocese.” [/b]
Thank you for sharing this insight. It very much needs to be said and understood. Likewise #1.
Jeremy’s reports and insights have really resonated with me. I have been out of TEC for more than three years now, but feel no sense of triumphalism. While having left behind the heretical teachings of TEC, something dear and good was lost as well.
The danger seems to me to be that the orthodox majority could slide into a neo-Puritan mindset. One already sees something of this in all of the disparaging talk in the blogsphere about “pointy hats,” “purple shirts,” and ceremonial. What next? How long before we start breaking the stained glass windows (although I haven’t seen any lately in the elementary school gym where we worship!) and tossing out the altar and processional crosses? Hopefully, Quincy, Ft. Worth, and San Joaquin can provide some leaven to the emerging loaf.
The scariest thing is the inattention to this fine article. It should resonate — and that it doesn’t, worries me and rather proves the point.