Still Working On It

In response to Dr. Holly’s query, I’ve been mulling over my sense that there’s an effective formal distinction to be drawn between the Church of England’s separation from the Church of Rome at the English Reformation (on one hand) and the Episcopal Church’s hypothetical removal from the Anglican Communion.

Could this make a difference? The separation at the Reformation took place in an essentially Erastian environment, where the transition from Roman Catholicism to Anglicanism involved the [mandatory] change of allegiance from one source of governance to another, but with the infrastructure largely intact (except, of course, the monasteries) — such that an English believer who did not want to be an Anglican had few options for articulating that resistance. Emigration and treason were the main alternatives. One could presumably be an Anglican with catholic allegiance, within a largely reformed church, as there was no other above-the-table alternative expression of the Church in England. The continuing identification of citizenship with a positive relation to Anglicanism well into the nineteenth century constitutes an environment that obliges the church to incorporate a broad range of dissent within its self-definition.

That’s part of my puzzlement about the current retrospective “This is true Anglicanism” impulse in some quarters. I had always thought that true Anglicanism bore with the potty vicar who was sure that Jesus was really an astral traveller, or that theological doctrine was a pointless appendix to the finer points of fox-hunting. Such people come, they occupy seats of greater or lesser prominence and authority, then they retire or die, and the church itself doesn’t change much. The point isn’t that we don’t care about error or try to correct error, but that the Truth is stronger, lasts longer, and eventually renders error moot. Truth counteracts error from within the church. (And that also provides us with the opportunity for learning the ways in the church may need correction — from within.)

In a world wherein the difference between being an Episcopalian (U.S.-style) and being an alphabet-soup Anglican-Communion recognized Anglican, a catholic-minded person can remain in fellowship with the trans-national church she or he recognizes by driving a little further to the congregation of choice. One is almost obliged to exercise private judgment (horrors, John Henry!) in ascertaining to which body one might belong.

That’s my present best shot at articulating the difference I sense — but I’m venturing this as a trial balloon, not as a forceful claim about the nature of Truth and catholicity.

Arrival

For those keeping track of the location of various delegates from the Adam family, Margaret returned from Durham this morning, and is resting up from her year of academic exertion. We’re intensely pleased that she’s home with her family, and we’ll be doing everything we can to recharge her for another go-round with academia in the fall.

Pippa and I will exhibit an image each at Seabury’s Community Art Exhibit from today to early June. Pippa’s hanging a painting entitled ’The Purple Dress,” and I one of my photographic representations of problems in hermeneutics. I’ll post her painting to flickr once she clears it — but she’s stern about my releasing any of her work before she decides it’s appropriate.

Again, Why?

I followed a link from the Tofu Hut to a page that points to dozens of online music videos, and nostalgia impelled me to click on a couple, then to wonder about several others (such as, for instance, the u2 “Gloria” video). Why is it so hard to find these online, and why are so many of them low-res, or pixellated-streamed, tiny frames?

These are promotional devices — commercials — and there’s an eager audience for them. Why do the record companies make it hard for me to amplify my desire to buy their products?

Read Before Midnight Tonight

So I went to Amazon to test the new concordance feature about which David blogged (to no avail, alas) (I mean, “I went to Amazon to no avail,” not “he blogged about it to no avail”), when I noticed that not only were the regular books I’ve written available from Amazon, but also the reviews and articles I published in Interpretation.

I’m proud of “Walk This Way”; I think it segues nicely into the lecture I gave a couple of weeks ago, and someday maybe they’ll mate and give birth to a book. But $6 is a little much even for a very good article by itself. I’d understand if you held out for the complete issue of Interpretation for just a little more. But the mini-reviews for $6? That’s just absurd. My review of Lohse’s Theological Ethics of the New Testament is just 300 words or so. Email me, and I’ll send you the Word file for a buck.

It’s cool that Interpretation has ventured into electronic distribution. I just wish they’d done it a little more generously.

Possibility

In musing about the possible outcomes of impending decisions in the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion, it occurred to me that I might appeal to a diocesan bishop I’ve met, whose public theological statements match mine almost exactly. Maybe he’d admit me to his diocese.

He’s the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Joys of Randomness

I’m not one of the iPod Conspiracy Theorists who’s convinced that Steve Jobs invested extra developer work-hours to make the “shuffle” playlist favor certain songs rather than others; “random” (or “pseudo-random,” to be precise) makes the most sense to me. That doesn’t prevent my taking delight in the juxtapositions that the iPod can produce, powered by impartial algorithms.

For instance, my iPod just played El-P (feat. Cage)’s “Oxycontin Part 2,” then followed it with the Temptations singing “Cloud Nine.” Apple can’t teach it to do that!

Puzzle

Between 1:30 and 3:15 this afternoon, a series of different web surfers came to this site after Goodle-searching for the phrase “luminous poison,” the trick murder implement in the 1950 film noir classic D.O.A. I alluded to this plot device last year, so I can explain why this page shows up in the Google results; what I can’t explain is, Why would a dozen or more people suddenly feel moved to look up “luminous poison” in the middle of Saturday afternoon?

Things To Come

Several things will happen within the next eighteen months or so. (So far, I’m on safe ground.)

One seems increasingly likely: the Episcopal Church USA will find a polite and careful way of declining to accede to the Windsor Report. It will take this as a matter of justice, of the development of doctrine, of the Holy Spirit doing a new thing, of resistance to bullying. It seems moderately likely that the rest of the Anglican Communion will determine that the ECUSA has not adequately attended to its requests (with some resistance from parts of the UK, and I don’t know about Canada well enough to say). The decision-makers involved will decide that ECUSA has decided to “walk apart.”

Some body of US Anglicans will receive formal recognition from the remainder of the Anglican Communion. This presumably would not constitute a simple replacement of ECUSA, since I doubt anyone wants to annihilate the bridges that might in a beautiful world lead to a rapid reconciliation — but it will be clear that the on-going work of the Anglican Communion in the USA is being done by an agency other than ECUSA.

Some catholic-minded Anglicans may be blessed with Benedict XVI’s permission to join the Church of Rome while retaining Anglican patterns of life and worship (corrected, of course, to reflect the magisterium’s teaching). The extent of this inclusion could vary from simple encouraging the Anglican Use of liturgical forms, to establishing an Anglican Rite Roman Catholic Church, with an infrastructure that reflects typically Anglican ecclesiastical order (again, aligned toward Roman authority).

Of course, all of this may be rendered moot; ECUSA may meet the expectations of the Primates and Consultative Council and Lambeth bishops. The signs of the times, however, seem to be pointing otherwise; a significant proportion of voices I hear express a sense of possibly being well shut of communion partners who don’t share ECUSA’s current sensibilities.

Hence the prospect of my uneasy dilemma: although I take very seriously my vow of obedience to my bishop, yet I don’t understand my ministry as deriving its sacramental basis apart from a lived connection with an arguably catholic communion — and if ECUSA opts out of communion with other Anglican bodies, I’m in a fix. Here are some alternatives, none ideal.

  • I could just sit tight, with my bishop and diocese, in what will have become de facto another Protestant denomination. In that instance, I’d be dissenting from the notion that such a situation suffices for the sacramental life of the church and its people, even though I agreed with the policies and practices of this group at the surface level.
  • I could try to align myself with whatever supplementary or replacement body maintains its connection with the Anglican Communion. That would be awkward, since I’d be dissenting from the presenting basis of that group’s claim more truly to be sustaining the catholic faith in the Anglican tradition. Formally speaking, though, it would be no different from being a dissenting Episcopalian of ten or a dozen years ago; I could always have joined a Protestant denomination that recognized the theological legitimacy of same-sex relationships, but that would have entailed repudiating my allegiance to the church catholic. At the time, I was unwilling so to do, and the fact that the church(es) changes around me doesn’t necessarily alter my sense of priorities and obligations.
  • I could seek a canonical relationship with a non-ECUSA, non-American-substitute diocese. I know some English clergy and bishops who might conceivably be willing to enlist me as serving under them. (I don’t know about the canons at this point, but since plenty of clergy serve in situtations where they aren’t canonically resident, it seems possible so long as I’m not rector of a parish).(Or I could move to Britain, or somewhere else.) In that circumstance, I’d be dissenting from the overall theological position of the Anglican Communion, but doing so from within an unambiguously Anglican situation (again, as the pre-recent ECUSA).
  • I could look into the Anglican-Use/Rite Roman Catholic body. In that case, I’d be removing myself from the distinctly Anglican tradition altogether, which would make me feel queasy and upset my wife horribly (don’t worry, Margaret, I’m just talking through the alternatives), but would with a stroke resolve tons of problems about doctrine and polity. In that case, I’d be dissenting from a broad array of magisterial teachings disciplinary rubrics, but I’d be doing so in a context in which the ground rules for obedience and dissent were at least quite clear.

Whatever I do, the bonds of solidarity that weave my life with those of the saints to whom I’m answerable will be impaired; some will be cut off altogether, others frayed.

On especially vexing aspect of this mess lies in the peculiar polarization to which I’ve adverted before, whereby participants in this struggle occlude the extent to which “being the church” has always involved reasoned disagreements about what the church is and should be about. Instead, many all around me are dead set on winning, vindicating their sense that theirs is the exclusive tenable vision of which the church should be like. But the church has never been a place where a single vision of itself prevailed; the church has always dealt with internal dissent. The question is, which dissents are tolerable, on what terms, to whom? (The least likely, most outlandish possibility above — that of joining the Roman Catholic church on some terms — actually might entail the greatest latitude for intelligible dissent, under the peculiar circumstances; thoughtful contemporary Roman Catholic theologians espouse views very similar to those I advance, with the recognition that that’s not what the church itself teaches [yet].)

Whatever happens, I’ll end up something of an inexplicable oddity to people around me, whether as a bereft catholic spirit among those who have become comfortably Protestant, or as a “reassessing” committed Anglican among ascendant “reasserters,” or as an Anglican heart in a Roman world. I’ll be testifying to the theological soundness of catholic allegiance (with its attendant frustrations and injuries) to sisters and brothers who value their vision of justice over a commitment to bearing with predominant, disagreeing sisters and brothers — or testifying to the theological soundness of an understanding of human sexuality that affirms the sanctity of particular relationships that the church to which I’ve pledged fidelity and obedience itself rejects.

Good thing I didn’t get into this racket for the sheer fun of it. For the time being, I’ll pray that we remember that the church has strayed into very swampy terrain before, that God will guide us out, through, past, and even within the swamp if we open our hearts to the Spirit, and that on the whole, I’m a relatively insignificant part of a salvific purpose much greater and wiser and more encompassing than I can imagine. . . .

Nature Stories

I woke this morning to the strangely thrilling news that the ivory-billed woodpecker may not be extinct. I’ve been aware of ivory-bills from my childhood; I have a vague memory (Mom can check me on this) that the family copy of Roger Tory Peterson’s A Field Guide to the Birds included a picture of the ivory-bill beside the pileated woodpecker, with a pencilled “X” beside it. (Margaret and I saw a pileated woodpecker in our neighbor’s back yard in Princeton; it was a wonderful, exciting moment.)

And from the sublime to a pond in Germany, toads are exploding for no discernible reason. “[C]ity residents have been warned to stay away from the pond” — advice that I imagine is pretty easy to obey.

As Advertised

Some random thoughts: First, I thought the clerical attire answer would be the less volatile of the two ecclesiastical entries I was contemplating. Little did I anticipate the attention it would draw.

Second, Tom Coates is pumping out buckets of wisdom in his entries on pointing at things and on the fate of Trackback and comments. Don’t let the vari-colored highlighted links throw you.

Third, I should have figured this out years ago, but I’ve begun filling out the end-of-term evaluation sheets for my classes as I go, so that by the end of the term they’ll already be mostly filled out. It’s a no-brainer, which reflects negatively on my practice up to this point (at least I figured this out eventually).

As advertised: random thoughts.