The Anglican Crackup
by Frank Kirkpatrick
The consecration of the Rev. Gene Robinson as a bishop
in the Episcopal Church USA (ECUSA) in Durham, New Hampshire, November 2 was
the culmination of a three-month story that has precipitated the biggest
crisis in the Anglican Communion since 1534, when Henry VIII declared that
he and not the Pope would be the Supreme Head of the Church of England.
The earlier breakup came about because Henry wanted a
church that would permit him to divorce his wife. The current crisis came
about after a majority of ECUSA bishops decided that their church would not
bar episcopal office to an open homosexual living in a committed
relationship with another man.
The Episcopal Communion, comprising 38 autonomous
national “provinces” under the titular head of the archbishop of Canterbury,
began to come apart at the seams. In due course, disgruntled bishops in the
Southern hemisphere—especially in Africa— declared their churches in
“impaired communion” with ECUSA, or at least with the New Hampshire diocese,
while conservative Episcopalians in the United States spoke about creating a
church of their own.
Throughout the story, American journalists for the most
part handled the conflict with a high degree of fairness, paying respectful
attention to both sides without a lot of spin in one direction or the other.
But their grasp of the underlying doctrinal and ecclesiastical issues was
less impressive.
The story began in the first week of August, when the
leaders of ECUSA met at their triennial General Convention in Minneapolis
with an agenda that included deciding whether to ratify the New Hampshire
Diocesan Convention’s selection of Robinson as its next bishop. Despite the
fact that questions involving gays and lesbians have bedeviled mainline
Protestant denominations for several decades, the news media showed up in
droves—doubtless in part because the Supreme Court June decision overturning
Texas’ sodomy law had ratcheted up interest in the “normalization” of same-
sex relationships in American society.
The press recognized that the problem was not just that
Robinson was gay—the church had been ordaining gay men to the priesthood and
promoting them to the episcopate for centuries, albeit without officially
acknowledging that it was doing so—but that he was “openly” gay, and, for
many critics, that he had “broken” his marriage vows by divorcing his wife.
Michael Paulson of the Boston Globe and NPR’s Mara Liasson on the Fox
Special Report with Britt Hume, among others, made this point.
During the convention, the press was briefly
galvanized by last-minute accusations that Robinson had inappropriately
touched a man in Vermont and had started a website that had been discovered
to have links to pornography. Both accusations were immediately investigated
and found to be without merit.
One opponent walked out and another wore ashes
on his forehead as a sign of mourning, but protesters were generally
respectful of the decorum that is a hallmark of Episcopalians in conference.
Only the conservative press—the Washington Times above all—went so
far as to refer to a “melee.”
Most of the coverage noted, without extended
commentary, the relatively irenic way in which Episcopalians were conducting
themselves. “Civility reigns at the convention,” wrote the Washington
Post’s Alan Cooperman August 3.
Although characterized by a hierarchical
governing structure symbolized in a presiding bishop, the ECUSA scrupulously
followed its practice of deferring to the autonomy of dioceses and ratified
Robinson’s selection. As expected, this brought the threat of internal
schism within the ECUSA to the fore.
All the reporting ran interviews with priests,
lay delegates, and bishops who saw the actions of the convention as leading
to decisions down the road on the part of some parishes, and possibly some
bishops and dioceses, to split from the church in the United States and
possibly join other provinces within the Anglican Communion. (In their own
defense, they repeatedly claimed that it was the church in the U.S. that had
split from “traditional” or orthodox Anglicanism.)
The other provinces in question included those
in Africa, Asia, and Latin America, some of whose bishops issued powerful
statements attacking the convention’s decision. Their opposition signaled
the deepening of a fissure in the Communion that had become evident in 1998
at the Lambeth Conference, a gathering of the heads or “primates” of all the
Anglican Provinces that is hosted every 10 years by the archbishop of
Canterbury.
Then, the African bishops in particular were
openly critical of many Western European and American provinces for having
abandoned a more “traditional” reading of Scripture with respect to
homosexuality, and in the end pushed through a nonbinding resolution that
called homosexual practice “incompatible with Scripture” and declared, “We
cannot advise the legitimizing or blessing of same-sex unions nor ordaining
those involved in same gender unions.”
In response to the outrage of Third World
bishops and conservative Americans at ECUSA’s ratification of Robinson’s
selection, the recently appointed archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams,
agreed to call an extraordinary meeting of the Anglican primates at Lambeth
to discuss the crisis. Before it took place, however, nearly 2,700 dissident
American Episcopalians met in Dallas in early October to encourage the
archbishop to seek ways to discipline the ECUSA, whose leaders were called
upon to repent and reverse their “unbiblical and schismatic” actions.
“We want the leadership severely sanctioned or
disciplined,” Pittsburgh Bishop Robert Duncan told Susan Hogan/Albach of the
Dallas Morning News October 10. Given that neither the archbishop of
Canterbury nor the Anglican Communion as a whole has the juridical authority
to sanction or discipline a member church, such a demand seemed like little
more than empty rhetoric. In retrospect, it may have been far from that.
The main story out of the October 16-17 Lambeth
summit was that Williams managed to keep the Communion from fracturing on
the spot. All primates signed a statement that was alternatively interpreted
as slapping American wrists or simply stating the facts:
“In most of our provinces, the election of
Canon Robinson would not have been possible since his chosen lifestyle would
give rise to a canonical impediment to his consecration as a bishop,” it
read. “If Gene Robinson’s consecration proceeds, we recognise
that we have reached a crucial and critical point in the life of the
Anglican Communion and we would have to conclude that the future of the
communion itself is in jeopardy.”
The primates also agreed to
put off taking any irrevocable step for a year, pending the report of a new
commission established by the archbishop of Canterbury “to consider his own
role in maintaining communion within and between provinces when grave
difficulties arise.” The significance of this commission was missed by the
American press, but not by the British.
The first reporter to suggest what was afoot was Jamie Doward of the London
Guardian’s weekly Observer, writing for the Guardian’s
online edition October 18: “It is understood that under Williams a team of
ecclesiastical lawyers has been drawing up plans to establish common laws
across the communion. The potentially seismic move followed a private
meeting of Anglican leaders in Hong Kong last year at which it was agreed
they would look to draw up a common body of canon law establishing key areas
on which the Church was bound to agree.
“The move is seen by ecclesiastical experts as
the first step to establishing an overarching legal framework which would
give the communion more powers to discipline member churches that threaten
to break ranks.”
On October 24, the London Times’ crack
religion correspondent Ruth Gledhill, in an article headlined “Church draws
up secret plans for Anglican ‘Pope,’” disclosed that at Lambeth the primates
had been presented with a proposal to give the archbishop of Canterbury “the
power to intervene in the affairs of churches outside England.” Such a
proposal, Gledhill noted, “would have to be agreed by the Church’s separate
provinces.”
She went on to quote the communications
director of the Anglican church in Wales as saying, “They are looking to
have an Anglican version of the Holy Office and a Magisterium. They won’t
call the archbishop of Canterbury a Pope but that is what he will be. If it
looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it’s a duck.”
Before the prospect of so radical
transformation of church polity could become widely bruited about, however,
journalistic attention shifted to the impending consecration in New
Hampshire. After that event took place, the question was how to track a
process whose real consequences seemed murky at best. As Gledhill put it in
a story headlined, “World’s churches cut links over gay bishop,” there were
few who “could say what was actually meant by “broken” or “impaired”
communion.
So while we wait to see what shoes will drop
and where, here are some lines of inquiry that journalists might consider
pursuing further.
Schism in America. In the image of a broken
family that haunts the Anglican tradition, if the American church moves
toward divorce, there will be issues surrounding the disposition of the
property of a parish if and when it leaves a diocese and of the property of
a diocese if and when it leaves a province. On the first matter, there is
fairly well established case law that the property of a parish belongs to
the bishop of the diocese in which the parish is located. But it is less
clear what happens when a bishop and/or his diocese attempts to disaffiliate
from the Episcopal Church in this country.
Besides formal schism (actually attempting to set up an
alternative church), it will be important to track the defection of
conservative Episcopalians who simply stop going to church. That may be more
prevalent than outright schism—actually setting up an alternative
church—especially given the legal and ecclesiastical complexities of
establishing a new ecclesiastical body. A steep decline in giving to
individual parishes, and especially to dioceses and the national church,
would have a major impact on the ability of the church to fund its missions,
parishes, and social services—though it would hardly be likely to reverse
the decision on Gene Robinson’s consecration.
Bankrolling the Conservatives. Some attention
has been paid to the funding of the Episcopalian dissidents. In an October
24 Washington Post article by Alan Cooperman, Gene Robinson charged
that the American Anglican Council (AAC) and the Institute for Religion and
Democracy (IRD), which share headquarters in Washington D.C., are beholden
to some wealthy donors who are driving the opposition to him as part of a
larger conservative political agenda. Cooperman singled out members of the
Richard Mellon Scaife family, who contribute at least $200,000 annually to
AAC, and Howard F. Ahmanson, who gives between $50,000 and $100,000 to IRD.
Parts of this story were also reported by Jack Taylor of the online news
service TR&I Publishing. As the story unrolls, it will be important to
follow the money trail.
Homosexuality in the Third World. In the run-up
to the Lambeth meeting in mid-October, some African bishops were reported to
have warned the primates that unless the Anglican Communion stuck to a hard
line against ordaining homosexuals, “people would die” in developing
countries, where opposition to homosexuality is much stronger than it is in
the U.S. or Europe. Moreover, by condoning homosexuality, the Anglican
Church would, in their opinion, be undermining their efforts to provide a
moral alternative to the increasing attraction of Islam to Africans and
Asians.
The Authority of Scripture. The theological
heart of the dispute is the issue of biblical interpretation. The news media
generally gave the evangelical critics ample opportunity to describe what
they claimed to be the Bible’s clear rejection of homosexuality. But there
was little effort to contrast the interpretive approach, or “hermeneutic,”
of the dissenters and that of the supporters of the decision.
There is a fairly broad consensus among Bible
scholars that Scripture is, no matter how divinely inspired, still a human
document bearing the marks of the culture in which it was written and that,
as a result, it cannot be transported uncritically into the present. Most
scholars also agree that the Bible knew nothing about what is now understood
as consensual sex between two men or two women. Most of those supporting
Robinson’s election rely on such a hermeneutic to disregard Biblical
passages that appear to condemn homosexuality as a genetic orientation even
though they clearly condemn homosexual acts between men who were assumed to
be “naturally” heterosexual.
But those American dissenters and Third World
Anglicans who consider such condemnations as morally binding on all
generations and cultures cannot evade hermeneutic challenges of their own.
How do they handle biblical passages that seem to condone slavery, polygamy,
or the treatment of women as property? Why does Jesus never speak about
homosexuality at all (that is left for Paul, and then only in passing)? And
why do the Old Testament and Pauline references to homosexual acts carry so
much more weight for conservatives than Jesus’ explicit condemnation of
divorce?
Doctrine v. morality. Many of the critics of
Robinson’s consecration do not distinguish between doctrinal heresy and
immorality. The Anglican Communion has long claimed to be bound by doctrinal
orthodoxy as found in the historic Christian creeds, but it has never
asserted an explicit moral orthodoxy. Homosexuality is not mentioned
in any of the historic creeds. In what sense do the critics believe that
condoning it is heretical?
That Old Time Latitudinarianism. In order to
explain the actions of both the ECUSA and the archbishop of Canterbury, it
is important to understand the role of a theological orientation called
“Affirming Anglican Catholicism.” Both Frank Griswold, the presiding bishop
of the ECUSA, and Rowan Williams himself subscribe to this view, which
encourages a catholic, or inclusive, spirituality; is socially very liberal;
and sees itself as a “crucial antidote to the rising tide of biblical
fundamentalism” that is, in its opinion, “weakening the historic Anglican
commitment to a balanced theology” (http://affirmingcatholicism.org). An
expression of this orientation is “Reclaiming Christian Orthodoxy,” an
address given in late October by Bishop Michael Ingham of the Canadian
Diocese of New Westminster to a conference of the Lesbian and Gay Christian
Movement and made available by the Anglican Communion News Service on its
website).
Proponents of Affirming Anglican Catholicism
reject opposition to the ordination of gay persons as “unAnglican”
exclusivism. In a letter to all clergy of the ECUSA dated August 20,
Griswold wrote that different “forcefields of energy in which our various
perspectives and ways of embodying the gospel constantly
interact—challenging and enlarging one another and thereby more fully
revealing God’s truth. Difference, and the capacity to welcome otherness,
are essential to the vitality of these various forcefields.” Can such a
capacious vision survive an overarching canon law that binds all provinces
and dioceses to certain affirmations of faith and ecclesiastical practice
and enforced by the archbishop or the primates acting as a central
authority?
A New Anglican Polity? Despite Rowan Williams’
apparent personal belief that homosexuality ought not to be a bar to
ordination, he has given his support to an exploration of a change in canon
law that might centralize authority in either his office or in the primates
acting together. If that happens, it will mark an unprecedented change in
the governing structure of the Anglican Communion. It could mean the
withdrawal of one or more national churches from the Communion and the
creation of new provinces to replace them. It could also mean a single web
of overlapping and mutually hostile jurisdictions. The unity of this church
is clearly strained. We simply do not know at this time whether the strain
will lead to divorce or to the continuation of a fractured, perhaps even
dysfunctional, but still intact family.
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