Catholic and Reformed

The Agony of Possession

2009-10-07T15:59:00.009-04:00

For some while I have contemplated an articulation of my thoughts on the war for diocesan and parish property currently being waged in my home diocese and across the United States between the Episcopal Church (TEC) and the newly formed Anglican Church in North America (ACNA). Yesterday, Judge James’s decision burst on the scene, broadly supporting the position of the TEC diocese that they are entitled to the entirety of the diocesan endowment (parish property is not addressed under this ruling). While some on the conservative side are no doubt gearing up for an appeal (the fact that there appear to be conflicting bases for recent decisions against ACNA in Pittsburgh and Fort Worth even suggest that appeals could ultimately end up in the Supreme Court), I find myself wondering what such legal contortions have to do with the mission of ACNA itself.

I should perhaps preface my remarks with some explanation on my own experience of being an Anglican. In the course of thirty-eight years, I have been a member of four parishes: the middle-of-the-road Church of England parish of St. Cuthbert’s. Durham (1970-1992); the gaudily extrovert Anglo Catholic bastion of St. Paul’s, K Street in Washington DC (1992-2003); the equally high, but more down-to-earth foundation of Mount Calvary, Baltimore (2003-2004); and the utterly un-categorizable Trinity Cathedral in Pittsburgh (2004-2009). All have contributed to my understanding of what it means to be first a Christian and secondly an Anglican.

In the course of my seventeen years in the United States (more or less the same period of time that Archbishop Robert Duncan has served in Pittsburgh in a variety of guises), the configuration of Anglicanism – both in the United States and worldwide – has been transformed. Parallel jurisdictions, heavily influenced by a strongly countercultural brand of Evangelicalism, exist throughout the English-speaking world, filling a void created, at least in part, by the failure of successive Archbishops of Canterbury to articulate a vision of mutually dependent provinces that minimizes dramatic shifts in doctrinal belief and practice at a provincial level. In the United States, the pace of theological innovation – of which Bishop Gene Robinson is a symptom not the cause – has precipitated an alternative body for conservative Anglicans (ACNA) that currently occupies an uncertain position within the structures of global Anglicanism. All of this is amply documented, but would attract little attention in the secular world but for two factors: the prominent part that the debate over human sexuality has played in the conflict between liberal and conservative Christians and the struggle for ecclesiastical assets. It is the latter that concerns me here.

My experience of the property conflict is shaped by my five years in Pittsburgh, as much an observer of how the recent past has shaped the present as a player in the world of diocesan politics. I have no great stake in diocesan institutions one way or the other, although I have developed a number of spiritual associations and friendships for which I am devoutly grateful. There are others who stand to lose far more than I in terms of long-standing family connections to particular parishes or significant contributions to diocesan projects and endowment funds. That said, the following arguments have been advanced in favor of an aggressive legal strategy by the conservative side:

1. Preservation of parish property for the active worshipping community, which has sustained it with minimal input from the diocese and practically none from the national church.

The appeal to the rights of property holders is, of course, deeply buried in the American psyche. Practical congregationalism has very much been the norm in American religious life since colonial days, and while national church bodies emerged during the 19th century, they tended to be comparatively weak (a state of affairs heightened by the internecine strife that erupted in many Protestant denominations over the Fundamentalist Controversy in the 1910s). The Episcopal Church was no exception to this tendency, with a weak national structure that only began to solidify during the late 1950s (ironically about the same time that denominational numbers began their precipitate decline). The last thing that the Episcopal Church’s bishops desired was direct responsibility for the running of the parishes in their care. Bishops were responsible for missions (whose incumbents they could appoint or remove at will), but incorporated parishes stood very much on their rights. A bishop’s power was ultimately negative (a refusal to perform episcopal acts, such as Confirmation) and a refusal to license clergy from outside the diocese. Once a clergyman was canonically resident, however, an incorporated parish could call him even in the face of the bishop’s disapproval, as Pittsburgh Bishop Cortlandt Whitehead discovered to his cost in 1912.A form of congregationalism upon which was superimposed an episcopal polity was thus the working norm.

A fair reading of the historical record, therefore, would seem to imply the virtue of a pragmatic distribution of parish properties according to the majority sentiment of their congregations, when serious doctrinal divisions arise, with the goal, as far as possible, of continuing an effective worshipping community in the sacred space. Rarely are decisions of this sort as overwhelming as they were in Northern Virginia in 2006, however. What does one do, for example, in the case of a 60%-40% split, especially if the 40% provide a greater proportion of the parochial income? What obligations do the “winners” have to the “losers” in such a scenario, if, as seems more and more to be the case, there is little appetite for negotiating a compromise? Should those with long attachment to the parish be granted rights to marry and bury and to hold periodic services in the church?

It’s dangerously easy to dismiss the gripes of the minority as those of “sore losers” but if we accept that the Church is not, in its essence, a democracy, then we should avoid putting too much faith in the democratic process as infallibly revealing God’s will. That sort of language has been all too evident at recent sessions of General Convention and it is not a positive development. Those looking to “come out and be separate” then, if they wish to make a claim to property, need to start with an assessment of the needs of those who will reject such a course, which usually includes both those who share their views but reject their strategy and those who fundamentally disagree with their views. A building and even a diocesan endowment fund are fleeting assets, as compared with the income secured from consistent and dedicated pledgers. More to the point, the notion that “they’re trying to steal our property” is now as rife on the conservative side as on the liberal one, even though the “property,” if we have our priorities right, is God’s to dispose of as He sees fit. This does not mean that one should be entirely passive in such matters, but it should make the legal approach (and that, at least to me, includes defending against a suit as well as initiating it) one into which you enter at great personal risk.

2. Preventing the exploitation of buildings or other assets by those who would use them to propound a “false Gospel.

A rationale now much in vogue in conservative circles is to ensure that monies currently under their control do not fall into the hands of heretics. Successive legal battles deplete the national church’s financial reserves until a point is reached at which TEC will have no choice but to capitulate and reach an agreement with their opponents. Again, providing the legal points being contested are genuine, this would seem to be a legitimate legal strategy.

But is it what the Christian life calls us to pursue? Although there is a fair degree of liberal commentary that describes ACNA as an “un-Anglican” body, it still largely remains the preserve of conservatives to describe their opponents as “non-Christians.” Frankly, I find it hard to accept this as a blanket designation. There is plenty of non-Christian behavior evident, but unfortunately that’s not unheard of in orthodox circles (even here in Pittsburgh). Within TEC, there is a worldview whose concessions to the prevailing culture have compromised its ability to proclaim the Gospel – and have brought us to the pass of realignment – but that doesn’t necessarily translate into assured destruction for all in the TEC camp. It is at least arguable whether preventing corporate (not individual) monies from the affected dioceses to pass in any form to TEC and its subsidiaries is something to be ensured by any and all means. Some TEC programs funded – especially at the diocesan level – will be positive or, at any rate, innocuous, while some, of course, will not, but there is a distinct difference between redirecting funds (as was the case in the early years of the Anglican Communion Network) and calculated asset-stripping.

3. Bringing public attention to bear on constitutional abuses of the polity of the Episcopal Church, most notably the infamous Dennis Canon, and forcing ultimate acknowledgment of the essentially congregational nature of TEC in matters of property.

We now come to the crux of the matter, namely that actions taken by TEC in recent months run counter to the very Constitution and Canons they have in place, the deposition of Bishop Duncan being a case in point. The voluminous writings of such legal observers as the Anglican Curmudgeon provide extensive commentary on this point. It seems fairly clear that TEC is, in large measure, willing (in a paraphrase of the old moniker about the Supreme Court) to make the Constitution and Canons what the Presiding Bishop and the Executive Council say it is. That is undeniable; it is also not ACNA’s problem. It is a very real problem for conservatives within TEC and one with which they will have to wrestle in the years ahead, but for ACNA conservatives to huff and puff about the illegality of TEC practices seems misplaced. After all many have written – and continue to write – as if this was only to be expected, so surprise and outrage seem a little contrived.

More to the point, the whole basis of the new post-Constantinean model of “doing Church” has been predicated on ending any state interest in the affairs of ecclesiastical bodies. The present recourse to the courts is essentially an appeal to the state to resolve issues that the latter cannot begin fully to understand. We really need good divorce lawyers handling these cases, not experts in Canon Law. None of this is to say that I think TEC has a particularly good moral claim to property (after all, while most of the 19th century men and women who helped create the major endowments wouldn’t have got on very well with the present ACNA leadership, they would have had even less time for today's liberal revisionists) but it does call into question whether a courtroom confrontation is the best venue for fighting such a battle. Property is becoming an encumbrance as people are distracted by litigation from doing the work of mission that ACNA’s leaders proclaimed at Bedford.

I close with another little Tolkien paradigm that seems apposite, just after Frodo has offered Galadriel the Ring and she has refused it. “I wish,” Sam Gamgee tells her, “you’d take his Ring. You’d put things to rights. You’d stop them digging up the gaffer and turning him adrift. You’d make some folk pay for their dirty work.” “I would,” Galadriel responds. “That is how it would begin. But it would not stop with that, alas!”

Are we listening?

Like A Mighty Army Moves the Church of God: Anglican Diocese of Pittsburgh Convention, November 7, 2009

2009-11-08T00:29:00.013-05:00

From across southwestern Pennsylvania (and beyond) American Anglicans flocked to their first convention as – explicitly – the Anglican Diocese of Pittsburgh (a nonprofit corporation bearing that name now exists). St. Stephen’s, Sewickley, may be commodious but, even so, space was at a premium.

Morning Prayer brought an ironic twist, when the second lesson – Revelation 17, no less – was presented by means of an audiovisual Bible series, with interesting special effects and a voiceover read by none other than John Guest. As far as I could tell the sage of Grove Farm was not physically present (though he was at Monroeville in 2008) but to hear that mellifluous English accent recounting the vision of the Whore of Babylon and the Beast with seven heads and ten horns was unusual, to say the least. Coupled with the other assigned passage from Ezra on the sin of the Israelites in intermarrying with the peoples of the land, one couldn’t help but wonder about the way the lectionary can sometimes fall.

The first order of business was to bring before the assembly the new parishes seeking admission. These included Harvest Anglican Fellowship in Homer City, which drew its first members from members of the congregations in Blairsville and Indiana who rejected the latter’s decision not to realign; the largely African-American Church of the Transfiguration in Cleveland, Ohio; St. James in San Jose, California, whose members left St. Edward’s Episcopal this spring and who have a vision to plant a diocese in the San Francisco Bay area (an endeavor, Archbishop Duncan remarked, in which Pittsburghers should be glad to cooperate); and Holy Trinity in Raleigh, North Carolina, launched in 2004 but the fruit of twenty-five years of visioning by Garland Tucker, and now one of the larger parishes in the Diocese of Pittsburgh, with a membership of around 300.

Archbishop Duncan then introduced two visitors from the Province of Tanzania, noting the connection forged by Alfred Stanway as Tanzanian missionary bishop and later as president of Trinity School for Ministry. There was an enduring connection, he said between the East African Revival and the renewal movement in western Pennsylvania. Bishop John Lupaa brought greetings from his Archbishop and from the 100,000 Christians in 263 churches in the Rift Valley. “I love the Lord,” he told delegates, “the Lord is my Savior and I am serving Him.” Bishop Jacob Chimeledya of the Diocese of Mpwapwa (the father of five children aged from 32 to 3½), whose diocese encompasses 500 congregations, described how, at a recent prayer meeting, healing was given to two people suffering from blindness. He praised the formation of ACNA, saying it had encouraged the churches in Africa after they had lost faith in The Episcopal Church.

Canon Missioner Mary Hays then rose to address the issues of “clergy, church planting and confession.” Pittsburgh’s clergy, she said, are a remarkable group of men and women who have made many sacrifices, not least the recent indignity of being “released” from ordained ministry. She quoted a recent e-mail from a clergyperson who wrote: “It is a great honor to serve among these presbyters at this momentous time in the Church.” On church planting, she recalled the words of Bob Logan ten years ago that anyone can plant a church. Today we have begun to recognize that it’s not a case of either preserving small congregations or planting new ones, but that the latter only strengthen the former. Yesterday the Archbishop had called for 1,000 new churches in the United States in five years and everyone had a part to play in this venture, whether in prayer, funding-raising, spiritual gift discernment or something greater. “It’s time for us not to be cozy or comfortable,” she concluded, adding that, from the point of view of “confession,” we needed to acknowledge that “we’re a part of the reason we’re in this mess.” If that were not so, church planting would have been taking place to a much greater degree in the past decade.

As if to reinforce this admonition, there followed introductions of extra-parochial clergy, who included the leader of a student group in Amherst, Massachusetts (who, brave woman, has the Fairfield brothers, Andrew and Leslie, as part of her team); a recently ordained Canadian clergywoman, whose orders are not recognized by the Anglican Church of Canada; Tom Herrick of the Titus Institute for Church Planting, a former employee of the Anglican Communion Network; ACNA’s first VA chaplain, serving in West Virginia and helping families reintegrate after the return of members of the military from active service; the pastor of Cleveland’s Church of the Transfiguration who prayed to God for months to send the congregation a priest only eventually to get the message “I’m trying”; and David Bane, former Bishop of Southern Virginia, who ultimately discovered he was no longer welcome in the church in which both he and his father has served. Perhaps most striking was the testimony of Father Vincent Raj of St. George’s Episcopal Church in Salinas, California. A priest in the Episcopal Diocese of El Camino Real (he just retired from the Board of Trustees) Father Raj was at Plano in 2003 and described how he had struggled to hold on his catholic roots from which TEC had now severed him. He was here to commit to ACNA and Archbishop Duncan. A short while later, Canon Daryl Fenton, just back from a trip to Myanmar, brought greetings from that nation. The challenges we face here, he pointed out, are very small compared to those who have nothing but “faith and guts.”

From such heights we passed to the more prosaic matter of the budget. The major shift, as noted in my pre-convention report, is the adoption of the biblical tithe as the standard for giving by parishes to the diocese (as is already the standard for diocesan giving to the province). This was adopted unanimously, although a priest from Atonement, Carnegie, urged that an absolute biblical tithe (not a tithe based on an average of the past three years’ income) be the norm. Jonathan Millard, rector of Church of the Ascension and member of the Standing Committee, then reported that the “Staying Faithful” fund had just received a $300,000 donation, together with a pledge of $200,000 in matching funds from someone not associated with the diocese. He added that the Standing Committee had consulted widely and prayed and fasted before reaching their decision to appeal Judge James’s decision and had noted the admonition of many of the need to “take a stand” on something that is “manifestly unfair,” citing the possible threat posed by the decision to parish – not just diocesan – property. (Interestingly, two other members of Standing Committee spoke to me privately about my letter regarding the appeal and told me of their conviction that this action was also necessary as a way of giving voice to the rights of those in even less friendly jurisdictions.)

Back in October, I was struck by the presence of Don Green of Christian Associates of Southwestern Pennsylvania (the local ecumenical association) at the TEC diocesan convention and yet today here he was again, with the timely reminder that the past year had not been an easy journey for us or “our sisters and brothers” in the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh. He commended the fact that the Archbishop continued to attend ecumenical gatherings and contribute to the work of finding ways to give public witness to a common faith. He noted the pending admission of the Church in God in Christ and the Mennonites to Christian Associates next year and the work of the Allegheny Jail Ministry, which had cut recidivism rates from 65% to 16%.

Three resolutions now stood before convention and in the first I took direct personal interest. Entitled “The Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh – Who We are in Christ,” it affirmed the Jerusalem Declaration as a summary of the essentials of our faith and pledged submission to the leadership of the GAFCON membership “as we look to our future as an orthodox and missionary movement in world Anglicanism.” On seeing the text, I was struck by the omission of any reference to the Anglican Covenant and so drafted an amendment that read as follows:

And be it further resolved that, in harmony with the resolution of the ACNA Provincial Council of June 22, 2009, we express our continued willingness to subscribe to the un-amended Ridley Cambridge Draft of the Anglican Covenant.

In retrospect, it may be that I overestimated the potential for opposition (especially as the sponsor Geoff Chapman afterwards told me that he would have accepted it as a friendly amendment), but so much of what I have read of late has been phrased as if the Jamaica debacle ended any meaningful possibility of change, so I pitched my advocacy in terms of catholic responsibility and the possibility that the Archbishop who is ultimately responsible for implementing the Covenant may not be the present incumbent. Archbishop Duncan then stated that he had been responsible for the provincial council resolution and that – since the amendment referred to the original Ridley Cambridge Draft (with its disciplinary language) - he would “enthusiastically” support it. In response to a request from the floor for the context of the draft, he gave a very polished account of how events since 2003 had led to the Covenant, noting further that it had originally been conceived among the proposals in "To Mend the Net." The resolution passed unanimously.

A second resolution upholding the sanctity of life was introduced by Becky Spanos, 30 years after the first such resolution was adopted in Pittsburgh. Throughout that period, she said, NOEL had tried to change the culture of the Episcopal Church and failed. While some of the language in the resolution might seem stark, “we can’t abort forty million more babies,” particularly when there are so many resources available for parents in need. Co-sponsor Tara Jernigan added that the resolution was the result of many parochial consultations in which she had been asked for the church teaching on this issue. The resolution passed unanimously.

Finally, a courtesy resolution celebrating the work of last year’s Celebrate 250 organizers and of retiring archivist Lynne Wohleber was adopted, and a standing ovation offered, at the prompting of David Wilson, to long-term diocesan historiographer Father John Leggett.

The final business concerned revisions to Constitution and Canons, many of them simply reflecting the shift from TEC to ACNA, with the significant change that all parish property is to be vested solely in the parish corporation. The only debate came over the wisdom of leaving the shelter of the Southern Cone, as far as Anglican identity was concerned, to which Archbishop Duncan responded that Archbishop Venables had encouraged him to embrace the new ACNA framework, but would keep clergy on the Southern Cone books in a form of “dual citizenship” as a safety measure. As vicar general for Archbishop Venables for North America, the link with Canterbury would be maintained, and he would attend the Synod of the Southern Cone next year for the election of Archbishop Venables’ successor. A motion of thanks to the Southern Cone for their hospitality was approved.

A note should here be given of the “multiplication minutes” – short presentations of innovative types of ministry that serve to build up the Body of Christ – that occurred throughout regular business. From St. Philip’s, Moon Township, came news of the new “mission-shaped communities” (MSC) composed of roughly 40 members (small enough for clear vision and large enough for action). An outgrowth of Alpha, they provided the first opportunity for service for many new Christians and in Moon had chosen to focus on reaching children and young adults with physical and emotional needs. From St. Christopher’s, Cranberry, came word of how a congregation with around eighty members had discerned its calling to plant in an area of rapid population increase not one church of 500 people but five churches of 100. From the conveners of the ecumenical Kairos Ministry came news of cursillo adapted to a prison context and the urge to “plant” a church within a penitentiary. After four years, other country jails had observed the results and were asking Kairos teams to come in. Take your best men’s cursillo, one of the priests involved (who testified to conversion from ten years of intravenous drug use) attested and multiply that by one hundred. Their converts included several Muslims and even one follower of Wicca. Finally, from Grace Anglican in Slippery Rock, news of raising up almost a dozen future priests, all but one under twenty-five. “There’s nothing more powerful,” declared the rector Ethan Magness, “than when anthropology and Christology connect with Calvary.”

I have been writing these accounts of Pittsburgh diocesan conventions since 2006. I rather suspect this will be my last for now. I trust that all you who have followed my progress have enjoyed my selections and have been appropriately edified. For this historian it has been a truly remarkable ride.

A Man of His Time? Rowan Williams and the Crisis of Anglican Order

2009-11-04T17:33:00.018-05:00

Review: Rupert Shortt, Rowan’s Rule: The Biography of the Archbishop. (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 2008).

“Rowan’s room for manoeuvre on the national stage was always going to be limited in important respects. For example, it is hard to defend an establishment institution in decline, particularly when you have a reputation for being anti-establishment. It is hard to defend English culture, of which the Church is a part, when you are committed to multiculturalism . . . And it is hard to avoid compromising yourself by taking conservative views into account, whether Evangelical or Roman Catholic, when you are committed to ecumenism and mutual respect.” (279)

When Randall Thomas Davidson was enthroned Archbishop of Canterbury in 1903, the relationship of the Church of England to the nation state, both at home and in the colonies, was paramount in Anglican identity. The next twenty years formed the cusp of the ecumenical movement, marked by such noteworthy events as the Edinburgh Missionary Conference (1910), the Patriarch of Constantinople’s appeal for Christian unity (1920), the Anglican-Catholic Malines conversations (1921-1927), and the Lausanne World Conference on Faith and Order (1927). By contrast, Anglicanism’s search for denominational identity and authority remained at low ebb, not least because Anglican establishment provided all the glue necessary to bind Anglicans throughout the empire together.

A century later, and the relative importance of these elements – erastianism, ecumenism and conciliarism – had been almost completely reversed. The Church of England’s ties to the state looked remarkably threadbare; as Lady Bracknell might have remarked, establishment had “ceased to be either a profit or a pleasure. It gives one position, and prevents one from keeping it up.” Ecumenical dialogue, though in some ways more structured than at the beginning of the 20th century, had also lost much of the fiery optimism that had governed the earlier conversations, as the prospects of organic unity receded, the failure of Anglican-Methodist unity talks under Michael Ramsey during the 1970s being an obvious case in point. Conciliarism, by contrast, had assumed center stage as rapidly growing national churches in the Global South achieved provincial independence and long-established national churches in the Global North pushed the limits of Anglican diversity. While all of Michael Ramsey’s successors experienced pressure to redefine Canterbury’s status as primus inter pares, it was only with the primacy of Rowan Williams that this issue took on an urgency that could not be gainsaid.

One of the great Anglican “what ifs” of the 21st century will surely be the course of the Anglican Communion had Richard Chartres or Michael Nazir-Ali succeeded George Carey in 2002. One may argue that the then Bishops of London and Rochester would have been obliged to moderate their forceful rhetoric once they filled the chair of St. Augustine and that the role of Archbishop of Canterbury has always been limited. Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that Rowan Williams has put his stamp on the course of events that stretches from the Windsor Report of 2004 to the Dromantine and Dar-es-Salaam meetings and the 2008 Lambeth Conference. The question inevitably arises as to what drives the present Archbishop of Canterbury to act as he has done. Rupert Shortt’s biography provides some excellent insights into the world of the man on whose watch the Anglican consensus finally began to crumble.

This is a sympathetic though not uncritical account of an ecclesiastic generally acknowledged to be one of the great minds of Anglican theology in the second half of the twentieth century. Of the three archbishops who in the last hundred years had a claim to original theological scholarship, Shortt ranks Williams considerably higher than William Temple or Michael Ramsey, although he admits that such intellectual mastery is not always contiguous with clarity, noting theologian Oliver O’Donovan’s verdict that Rowan wishes to “make Christianity difficult – reversing the strategy of the apologist who wants to purge religion of its bewildering aspects – but then making a missionary opportunity out of the resulting sense of dislocation.” (13) He also cites a passage from Williams’ Lost Icons, in which the latter warns of ‘all kinds of difficulty about appealing as a moral sanction to the danger of diminishing the solidity of the self by ignoring the perceptions of others,’ which Shortt helpfully translates as “talking in a diffuse way about the danger of selfishness.” (224)

Conservative Anglicans may well feel that while Shortt exposes the exaggerations and oversimplifications of all the archbishop’s critics, he has much less sympathy with those on the theological ‘right.’ Writing of the 1998 Lambeth Conference, he describes many African bishops as displaying a double standard on sexuality, having appealed only a decade earlier for tolerance on the issue of polygamy, even though the latter question had been concerned less with permitting already converted Christians to have additional wives as with the procedures to be followed with an already polygamous household that converted to Christianity. (205) While Stephen Noll would probably have no problem being described as “stridently conservative” (227) Andrew Goddard may bridle at being referred to as an “outspoken hardliner,” and the allusion to the “squadron” of Oxford-based Evangelicals who mobilized to oppose Jeffrey John’s appointment conjures up some wonderful images (268). Much of this is, of course, in the eye of the beholder. Shortt may not like the more conservative Evangelicals, but he lets them speak and also demonstrates how much they still have in common with Williams. Moreover, anyone who believes that stridency in orthodox circles invariably (as opposed to generally) correlates with a passion for truth obviously needs to read a little more widely.

In his account of Williams’ early life, Shortt draws particular attention to the former’s reputation as an intellectual high-flyer and his early emergence as a critic of the prevailing liberal theological consensus at both Oxford and Cambridge. The procession of teachers who were soon obliged to admit that they had nothing more to teach him becomes annoyingly repetitive. More singular was Williams’ dissent from the presumptions of such works as John Robinson’s Honest to God (1962) or the essays in Soundings: Essays Concerning Christian Understanding (1963). His rejection of the notion of Jesus solely as a moral mentor and conviction of the basic truth of the Gospels foreshadowed a counter-cultural stance that sits ill with today’s perception of him as an apologist for unbridled modernism. His early interest in both Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy are well documented – not least his doctoral dissertation on Vladimir Lossky – and his fascination with the writings of Early Church Fathers would endure. Nevertheless, his was not a straightforward conservatism:

In the theological scheme to which Rowan felt increasingly drawn, liberals tended to err through saying too little, while many conservatives overlooked the dangers of saying too much. The most credible stance was based on a balance between two sorts of awareness – that religious truth (as opposed to truth revealed in a test tube) can never be simple or slick, because it lies at a depth where things are often murky; but the burrowing process must be engaged with unflagging commitment nonetheless. (98)

Williams’ subsequent academic career at Cambridge (chaplain at Wescott House and Clare College) and Oxford (Lady Margaret Professor of Divinity) demonstrates certain character traits that remain with him to this day, including a predisposition toward conflict avoidance and a profound sympathy with the underdog. (108) It also witnessed his first engagement with the issue of homosexuality and the Church’s response to it, perhaps most notably in The Body’s Grace, a 1989 lecture that affirmed his basic conviction that changes in the theology of sexuality could not be made by reference to prevailing social mores but must be informed by scriptural principles. (143-146) This was not, as Shortt makes clear, the sole – or even principal – preoccupation of these years. Williams’ prodigious literary output revealed a deeply grounded Trinitarian faith and conviction of a God active in human history, though Shortt treats Williams’ exploration of the Church’s role in the political sphere as insufficiently nuanced.

The chapter on Williams’ translation to the Diocese of Monmouth throws further light on his pastoral development. Shortt does not spare his subject in noting his failure to implement needful but drastic administrative reforms or his willingness to accept people for ordination out of sympathy for their personal story rather than conviction of their call. What does emerge, however, is a picture of a pastoral bishop desirous of being accessible to his flock. Equally revealing are the facts that he was the only Welsh bishop to support an evangelistic initiative known as Good News in Wales and was an active promoter of church plants (something that might come as a surprise to many Evangelicals). Among other formative experiences, Shortt devotes significant space to the lasting impact of being present at Ground Zero on September 11, 2001. (212-222)

Williams’ elevation to Canterbury was received with enthusiasm by a wide spectrum of opinion, a sentiment that would hardly last the year. Citing Oliver O’Donovan’s prescient confidential letter of July 4, 2002, Shortt draws attention to the telling phrase that “the efforts of the harder elements [of the Global South], initially intended to focus on you, are to be directed more constructively, to the general question of accountability and authority within the Anglican Communion,” (243) even as Williams’ record on the presenting issue of homosexuality – on which both sides drew for encouragement – was recognized to be “a highly forthright lecture, an open-handed pastoral policy, and a declaration of deference to the collective mind of the Church.” (244)

It is clear that until 2003, the Archbishop continued to hew to the view that better communication rather than enhanced central authority was the cure for the Communion’s ills. The Jeffrey John affair, which Shortt describes in detail (264-277), demonstrated both Williams’ commitment to the mind of the Church in overseeing his own province and the vast gulf between his critics on left and right. It also revealed his dangerous ability to see all sides of the argument and rarely to convey to anyone in personal conversation that he disagreed with them (less helpful in a bishop than an academic). That said, the aftermath of John’s rejection and Vicki Gene Robinson’s consecration as Bishop of New Hampshire saw an incremental shift in his thinking toward the more structured model for the Anglican Communion envisaged in the Virginia Report. Shortt has little time for conservative critics like Peter Jensen or Bob Duncan – he uses the phrase “purporting to be on a golfing holiday” to describe Duncan’s presence at the 2005 Dromantine meeting (312) – but he recognizes their impact and he refrains from expressing a personal view of the famous meeting of 2004 at which, supposedly, archepiscopal approval for the Anglican Communion Network was given. (288-289).

By the spring of 2006, it was evident that the actual choices to be made reposed not in England but in Africa and the United States. The aftermath of the 2006 General Convention of the Episcopal Church, the appeal for alternative primatial oversight, the election of Martyn Minns as a Nigerian missionary bishop and the subsequent vote of the Northern Virginia parishes all testified to something very different from the two-tier Communion that Williams had proposed. Shortt’s account of the Dar-es-Salaam meeting (367-369) is a little one-sided, since it is presented as a defeat for the principle of a separate American province sought by Peter Akinola, rather than as an acceptance of the principle of the need for external oversight, something later rejected by the Episcopal Church.

What is harder to discern, as one moves into the account of GAFCON and the Lambeth Conference of 2008, is how Shortt understands Rowan Williams’ current view of authority. At home, the Archbishop undoubtedly is as aware of the post-erastian reality of English Anglicanism (which Shortt regards as the underlying point of his much-debated sharia address) as many of his critics. What is not clear is how he wishes to apply these principles elsewhere. The failure to exclude the consecrators of Bishop Robinson as well as Robinson himself from the Lambeth Conference, surely laid him open to the charge that it was Robinson’s character not the principle of breaking the bonds of Communion that was at issue. Shortt also notes the positive comments of Williams on the GAFCON meeting, even as he disagreed with its structural solution (409-410), something that would be consistent with earlier statements that he had made, but calculated to perplex his liberal admirers.

Williams’ later remarks on the tone of the debate on women bishops in the Church of England testify to recognition on his part that, ultimately, holding everything together may prove to be a bridge too far. It is noteworthy that this biography was published prior to the contentious February 2009 meeting of General Synod that rejected statutory protections for Anglo Catholics and the even more embarrassing debacle at the Anglican Consultative Council meeting in Jamaica that witnessed the gutting of Clause Four of the Anglican Covenant, without which it is debatable if any meaningful confessional identity for the Anglican Communion could be assured. To read this biography is to understand better what shapes the mind of the present Archbishop of Canterbury but it fails to explain why one so passionately convinced of the importance of organic unity and so evidently committed to historic Christology has shied from articulating an overt defense of those who have sought to do the same. Given his clear recognition of the declining importance of the national church, it would surely not have gone beyond his brief to offer more than nominal moral support to like-minded Anglicans in other provinces. By his deference to the leadership of other national churches, Rowan Williams may ultimately have precipitated the eventuality that one feels he always wished to avoid.

An Open Letter to the Standing Committee of the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh (Anglican Church in North America)

2009-10-30T11:49:00.006-04:00

October 30, 2009

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Having recently expressed my concerns to the leadership of the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh (The Episcopal Church) regarding their stance on Judge James’s decision, I feel it only consistent to note my opposition to the intent of the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh (Anglican Church in North America), as reported in today’s Pittsburgh Tribune-Review, to appeal that decision.

Over the five years that I have been in Pittsburgh, I have taken as a given that the embrace of “miraculous expectation and missionary grace” was a sincere one, even as I learned – as one might reasonably expect – that perfect behavior in all things is for the Church Triumphant rather than the Church Militant. So often have I heard the wise advice to trust in God’s Providence and to refrain from fretting about the future. Concurrently, however, engagement in the legal process, employing the same types of legal argument concerning ultimate jurisdiction and property law as invoked by lawyers for The Episcopal Church, has continued.

Ultimately, at least from this historian’s perspective, there is no way to prove the original intent of Episcopal Church structures, not least because the first generation of church leaders carefully refrained from a single explicit declaration of the corporate nature of the church. All we have are moral claims, which are precisely those upon which the secular courts are unwilling to render an opinion.

It has been frequently asserted that the ACNA diocese has always been willing to negotiate in good faith and that defending against aggressive motions does not contravene the scriptural imperative against lawsuits among Christians. This seems to me like special pleading. If ACNA does indeed have a special purpose in God’s design, then it seems equally plausible that an initial failure in the courts is either a way of telling us that we must “let goods and kindred go” without complaint, or, alternatively, that God is providing an occasion for grace on the part of The Episcopal Church to reach an Overland Park-style resolution. If we are intended to be a new post-millennial, post-institutional body, then among the patterns of behavior that we must set aside is an American understanding of property of which many of us have been only recent stewards.

The future mode of ACNA is apparently to be a decentralized federation of churches (I’m still not sure how we reconcile the model Geoff Chapman described at the Sewickley pre-convention meeting with a catholic ecclesiology, but at least I can understand the reasons why it might be desired). Fighting so fervently on behalf of a lingering diocesan authority that we do not intend to retain in the future is not, to my way of thinking, compatible with that.

While I realize that my perspective is probably a minority one, in retrospect I do think it unfortunate that we never had separate votes – as was done in Virginia – on realignment as a principle and, separately, on recourse to the courts as part of the realignment strategy. Those opposed to court action and who make diocesan pledges to ACNA – as I do – are thus as obliged to see our money being used for a purpose of which we disapprove as are conservatives still in TEC.

I would ask that you carefully reflect and solicit views from a spectrum of people within the diocese before proceeding down the road currently contemplated. A future historian of ACNA would, I feel sure, much prefer to recount a story of a formative church beneath the trees than of one locked in courtroom conflict.

Sincerely, Jeremy Bonner, PhD, Trinity Cathedral

An Open Letter to the Standing Committee of the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh

2009-10-10T08:56:00.002-04:00

October 10, 2009

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I write to express my concern about the tone of the recent letter released on the diocesan website. While I have always accepted that, at least from a purely legal point of view, both diocesan entities could make a reasonable claim to the endowment, I had hoped that a spirit of pragmatism would enter into any proceedings concerning parish ownership. A generous reading of the aforementioned letter suggests that a mediated process might lead to a transfer of parish property, but it is so hedged about with reservations that it might almost be better to have said outright that nothing short of a return to the Episcopal Church would enable realigned conservatives to remain in their property.

I am one of probably a rather small number who believes that ACNA's participation in the present legal case was unwise, not because realignment could not legally occur - I happen to believe that it could - but because getting involved in the first place has served only to distract attention from what ACNA claims to be about and prolong the bitterness. That said, the language of reconciliation employed here simply does not comport with reality. If you simply wish to reclaim all parish buildings, then say so. If you wish to extract a "fair market value," then say that.

While I recognize that the Standing Committee embraces a wide spectrum of theological opinion, those of you actively involved in the work of the pre-realignment diocese understand what drove realignment, even if you disagreed with the strategy.To say that "you do not wish to punish" is frankly patronizing (I fear there is no other word), particularly given the fact that such reassurance should be entirely unnecessary if you are simply carrying out a "fiduciary duty." More to the point, you know that for many in Pittsburgh the time for the accomplishment of "fruitful things" has long since passed. It may perhaps be achievable by the right people at the right place and time, but members of the realigned diocese are not the right people and this is not the right place and time for them.

Some of us had hoped to be able to create a framework in which there could continue to be relationships across the Episcopal/Anglican divide, perhaps the only place in the United States where conditions favored such a strategy. The severing of bonds between clergy who have worked together for years is particularly sad. I will not claim that there have been no statements or actions from the other side that have accentuated the present unpleasantness, but I confidently predict that a letter of this sort will formalize the divide in perpetuity. For some on Standing Committee that may be no great loss, but not, I suspect, for all.

Sincerely, Jeremy Bonner, PhD, Trinity Cathedral

The End of a Chapter

2009-07-14T08:56:00.008-04:00

Yesterday, 220 years after its constitutional documents were adopted, The Episcopal Church (TEC) at its triennial assembly (the General Convention) in Anaheim arguably brought to an end its ambiguous double-life as both Anglican and Episcopalian. To put it another way, it finally conceded the logic of American denominational identity, which most of its mainline Protestant neighbors have long accepted, that it is a national church, bound by historical bonds of affection to other churches in the Anglican tradition but in no way obligated to look beyond the concerns of its members in discerning the future direction of its mission and ministry.

There have been other more bitter conventions. One can think of the harsh words exchanged between Evangelicals and Anglo Catholics in the 1870s, the "change of name" controversy at the beginning of the twentieth century, the struggle over "fundamentalism" in the early 1920s, the fractious debates over civil rights in the 1960s and female ordination in the 1970s. Sometimes there have been departures - the Reformed Episcopal Church in the 1870s or the Continuing Churches in the 1970s - but they were always on a small scale and did not ruffle relations with the Church of England. The year 2009, the culmination of events that began with Gene Robinson's election as Bishop of New Hampshire in 2003, looks set to be different. At both the global level and within the Church of England, there now stands the Fellowship of Confessing Anglicans, whose members subscribe to the Jerusalem Declaration issued by the Global Anglican Future Conference in 2008. Furthermore, a motion now looks likely to be presented at the Church of England's General Synod later this month to debate the future relationship of the Church of England to the newly formed Anglican Church in North America (ACNA).

Many observers will naturally argue, as indeed did Bishop Stacy Sauls, that the resolution in question (DO25) sought merely to reassert TEC's right to discern priestly vocation in its own cultural context and that it does not overturn a moratorium on the election on noncelibate homosexual clergy to the episcopate passed in 2006 (BO33). Those passionately demanding repeal of BO33 present at Anaheim, including The Reverend Susan Russell of All Saints, Pasadena, clearly do not see it that way.

There are plenty of well-informed sites now digesting the immediate consequences (as the links above testify) but the historical implications are equally fascinating. The whole pattern of schism (which is part and parcel of the American religious experience) has played out very differently in an Episcopal and Anglican context than anywhere else. Dual identity (one foot trapped in its English roots and one firmly planted on American soil) for years kept Episcopalians locked in a religious holding pattern that precluded formal separation (the fact that it was the only denomination to reunite almost immediately after the Civil War, where other Protestant groups endured as much as 100 years apart testifies to this). The institutionalist mentality - reflecting the state church status of its English parent - permitted a considerable diversity of opinion, while ensuring the election of bishops of generally conservative outlook but tolerant of clerical and lay dissent short of open defiance. Heresy trials were few, contentious issues generally shelved and congregational independence accepted de facto if not de jure.

The change that has come since the 1960s has followed both upon a change in the composition of the episcopal order and the decline of its standing as primus inter pares in church government. The prophetic mantle assumed by many bishops since Presiding Bishop John Hines - commendably - took it upon himself openly to challenge Southern segregation has undermined the corporate witness and collegiality of the House of Bishops. The upper house of General Convention seems increasingly to be viewed merely as a kind of religious Senate, which, despite the election of its members by the people of their dioceses, does not properly represent the popular will in the way that members of the House of Deputies do. It is interesting, given Bishop Robinson's expressed fears before the vote that he doubted the commitment of his colleagues to DO25, that it passed by much the same margin as his election in Minneapolis in 2003.

The other dimension is the global one. View them as interfering African schismatics or traditional Anglicans who cannot see a warrant for recent innovations, Global South leaders are now engaged with the process and closely associated with the new congregations of ACNA. Even at the height of its missionary activity (mostly in the Philippines and China), TEC never had the sense of identification with other Anglicans that many members of ACNA now do. Some of that is force of circumstance - especially for those communities who for a while relied on an African bishop for oversight - but it would be absurd to talk as if that was all there was to the relationship (it would be wrong, incidentally, to suggest that there are no deep transnational relationships, between members of TEC and Third World provinces, but in the current context they cannot be the same).

Schism Anglican Style. As (Arch)Bishop Duncan remarked to me a few years ago, there are many dissertations in the making. Let's hope there will soon be the seminaries to hire their authors.

Update: Statement of Kendall Harmon on Resolution D025

The passage of Resolution D025 by the General Convention of 2009 is a repudiation of Holy Scripture as the church has received and understood it ecumenically in the East and West. It is also a clear rejection of the mutual responsibility and interdependence to which we are called as Anglicans. That it is also a snub to the Archbishop of Canterbury this week while General Synod is occurring in York only adds insult to injury.

The Archbishop of Canterbury, the BBC, the New York Times and Integrity all see what is being done here. There are now some participants in the 76th General Convention who are trying to pretend that a yes to D025 is NOT a no to B033. Jesus’ statement about letting your yes be yes and your no be no is apt here. These types of attempted obfuscations are utterly unconvincing. The Bishop of Arizona rightly noted in his blog that D025 was "a defacto repudiation of" B033.

The presuppositions of Resolution D025 are revealing. For a whole series of recent General Conventions resolutions have been passed which are thought to be descriptive by some, but understood to be prescriptive by others. The 2007 Primates Communique spoke to this tendency when they stated “they deeply regret a lack of clarity”on the part of the 75th General Convention.

What is particularly noteworthy, however, is that Episcopal Church Resolutions and claimed stances said to be descriptive at one time are more and more interpreted to be prescriptive thereafter. Now, in Resolution D025, the descriptive and the prescriptive have merged. You could hear this clearly in the floor debates in the two Houses where speakers insisted “This is who we are!”

Those involved in pastoral care know that when a relationship is deeply frayed when one or other party insists “this is who I am” the outcome will be disastrous. The same will be the case with D025, both inside the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion.

D025 is the proud assertion of a church of self-authentication and radical autonomy.

It is a particularly ugly sight.

Source: http://www.kendallharmon.net/t19/index.php/t19/article/24426/

"Force is not the Means by which We Lead or Govern"

2009-10-08T20:25:00.005-04:00

Yesterday, in accordance with my duties as Trinity Cathedral delegate to two diocesan conventions (yes, dear reader, two; I suspect it must be some sort of record to be an accredited delegate to two rival conventions under such circumstances), I followed up my visit to Calvary Church for the TEC pre-convention meeting with a trip out to Sewickley for the ACNA pre-convention meeting at St. Stephen's Church. Of the Calvary meeting, I will say only that it was generally unremarkable (Judge James's ruling having yet to be delivered) and most of the discussion dealt with budgetary issues and revisions of the canons to bring them back into accord with the national church. For those intrigued by the emerging shape of the new province, however, I suspect some who were not there might find the matters discussed at the ACNA pre-convention to be of interest.

On Wednesday, delegates gathered in the shadow of the court decision. Archbishop Duncan was in sunny mood, however, a disposition no doubt enhanced by the knowledge that his audience was comprised of the faithful. Discussion of the budget - now dependent on assessment income alone - involved the proposal to move the diocese from mandatory assessments to a voluntary tithe. The latter is a plank of ACNA thinking on stewardship, embracing the biblical norm of giving, and Pittsburgh has set as a goal the giving of 10 percent of its income to the new province (leaders of the province have in turn promised to offer significant financial support to underwrite the office of the archbishop). As a first step, redirected giving by parishes - instituted in 1996 to allow congregations to refrain from giving to TEC - will be ended and parishes (and individuals) strongly encouraged to make the tithe the standard of giving. Next year's convention will then institute first reading of a change to the constitution that will make all giving voluntary. Sewickley rector Geoff Chapman commended these moves as helping to build mutual trust and greater interdependence and yet, as the archbishop acknowledged, this is obviously a step of faith for the leadership. Assessment income is down from a 2009 budget figure of $1,549,088 to $931,491 in 2010 (or $870,172 if every parish went with the tithe, since several large parishes are currently assessed at 11 percent). Later, in a discussion on elections to the new board of trustees, the archbishop cheerfully responded to a question on their function in a post-endowment world, by stating that they would be responsible for "the many things that will be given us."

Also reviewed were new guidelines for clergy compensation, including maternity and paternity leave (Jonathan Millard inquired if this was to be retroactive). The loss of access to the Church Pension Fund, Archbishop Duncan admitted, was a sore blow, given its defined benefits, especially for disabled clergy. Any new pension scheme will only reflect the level of contributions. At present the search is on for good disability insurance that will provide some degree of protection to clergy just beginning their careers.

Perhaps most fascinating was the report from Canon Hays on the admission of new non-geographic parishes. Present were a group from Church of the Transfiguration in Cleveland, OH, who together with Harvest Anglican in Homer City, PA; St. James, San Jose, CA, and Holy Trinity, Raleigh, NC, will be admitted into union at convention. The news provoked a question from Dennett Buettner as to why a parish in San Jose had not joined San Joaquin, to which Canon Hays responded that they had female candidates for ordination and that, after examining all the new dioceses, they considered Pittsburgh to be the best fit. A Silicon Valley-based congregation they had, she said, a desire to plant a new diocese in the Bay area! Tina Lockett then rose to ask the archbishop whether it in fact the case that "we're still not tied to geography" and that the possibility existed that even a Pittsburgh-based congregation could elect to seek union with another jurisdiction. Archbishop Duncan responded that while it had been agreed among the bishops that both must agree on transfers - San Joaquin had concurred in the San Jose initiative - he doubted if any ACNA bishop would seek to restrain a congregation that wished to "move" elsewhere. Something upon which to ponder!

Resolutions setting the Jerusalem Declaration as the standard of belief and upholding the sanctity of human life were reviewed in short order, before a march began through proposed changes to constitution and canons. While many simply involved deletion of references to TEC, there were some more substantive alterations. Canon 1 sees a shift from membership in the Province of the Southern Cone to membership in the Anglican Church in North America, prompting they question of whether membership in the Anglican Communion continued to be assured by the fact that all ACNA bishops had seats in the house of bishops of other provinces. Archbishop Duncan confirmed this, at the same time noting with a twinkle that the Archbishop of Canterbury's letter acknowledging the formation of ACNA (addressed to the Most Reverend Robert Duncan) had managed to convey the impression that this was an ingenious arrangement to retain membership. Of course, the archbishop added, "he'll never say that publicly." Elsewhere, the Array (the court of ecclesiastical discipline) is to be reconfigured to provide a review committee and identify responsibilities and powers; parishes given more freedom to set up in close proximity (in case of eviction); the requirement to maintain full-time clergy for parish status is eliminated; and all parish property is now to be vested in the parish. Geoff Chapman here intervened to ask if every parish will have the ultimate right of disassociation from ACNA and was informed that the necessary change will be made next year.

The emphasis on subsidiarity was all to evident throughout the meeting. As the quote from Archbishop Duncan that heads this report clearly demonstrates, ACNA will in some measure revert to the model found in TEC throughout much of the 19th century. The test will come in a few years when a measure of stability has been achieved. It will also be interesting to see how it meshes with leadership models among ACNA's African allies and whether it will even come to shape behaviors across the theological divide. Congregational it undoubtedly is, but will its Anglican roots make it something more than that?

By the end of the meeting the archbishop was in upbeat mood. We've proved, he said, we can live without the endowments, so even if we choose not to appeal, we are secure. He pledged that even this year's convention will be different, with alternates and observers free to sit among the delegates. We may do some things according to legislative procedures, he concluded, but we're not a legislative body but a family. And in a sense he's right. Comradeship in adversity has welded together the inner circle of those who have worked with Bob Duncan since he first came to Pittsburgh and the wider body of believers in Pittsburgh who belong to ACNA. It's interesting for me that while I still identify with ACNA as much as I do with any institution, at neither pre-convention meeting did I feel myself to be wholly there. Perhaps I've just spent too long writing about a pre-realignment diocese. There are just too many missing faces (everywhere) for me to feel entirely comfortable. "We have the future," the archbishop insisted, while those in TEC "have only the past." What sort of future, I wonder.

The Vexed Question of Authority

2007-02-05T12:56:00.002-05:00

This is the text of a paper from which I will be speaking at the March 2007 meeting of the Organization of American Historians in Minneapolis. Questions and comments are welcome. I should stress that this is only a point of departure for me and I hope to explore these ideas in greater depth at a later date.

National Denomination or Worldwide Communion?

Ecclesial Authority, Anglican Identity

and the American Episcopal Church, 1953-2003

In the early years of the twenty-first century, with controversy and rumors of schism running rampant within the American Protestant mainline, the Episcopal Church, for so much of its history the embodiment of establishment values and good taste, has finally been forced directly to grapple with the hitherto unresolved nature of the authority by which it determines doctrine. The Church’s evasion of this issue for much of the twentieth century owes much to its eschewal of strict confessional statements and to the singular way in which Episcopalians have understood their status within the American denominational setup. During the fundamentalist-modernist debate of the 1920s, for example, Episcopal Church leaders finessed the issue of Scriptural authority by appealing to the authority of the historic creeds of the Church as the litmus test of orthodoxy, even though this merely postponed the crisis over authority. [1] Though active in ecumenical dialogue, moreover, the Episcopal Church for most of its history has refused to define Christian reunion in exclusively catholic or protestant terms, favoring the notion of itself as the “bridge-church,” resolving the disagreements of the Reformation era.

The changing nature of the debate in the years since the Second World War can be attributed to three main causes. The first relates to the shifting character of the American episcopate. Despite significant theological conflict during the nineteenth century, Episcopal bishops generally constituted a united front in their relations with the outside world. Following the model established by John Henry Hobart, Bishop of New York from 1811 to 1830, most eschewed active engagement in the political controversies of the day, whether in matters of economic justice or moral regulation, which helped sustain a sense of unity in the episcopal college. [2] The ecclesiastical authority implicit in the House of Bishops began to fall away during the 1960s, however, as a number of articulate and controversial bishops sought to substitute their prophetic witness for the corporate authority of the Church. Whatever the merits of individual actions (and not all were equally meritorious), together they weakened the ability of the House to affirm a doctrinal standard of any sort and strengthened the belief that doctrine was ultimately determined solely by the legislative fiat of the Episcopal Church’s General Convention.

A second contribution to the crisis of authority has been the rise of an Evangelical subculture within American Anglicanism. Although a minority within the Church as a whole, Anglican Evangelicals achieved spectacular successes in a number of parishes during the 1970s, which helped propel a process of denominational renewal that led to the creation of a new seminary and a number of influential missionary and evangelistic agencies. [3] In the process, they developed close ties with Evangelical Anglicans in other parts of the world, instilling in them a much greater appreciation for the catholic nature of the Church. Even as a majority within the Episcopal Church began to question the value of a relationship with the rest of the Anglican Communion, Evangelicals sought further to promote it.

The Evangelical commitment to the wider Anglican family demonstrated a commonality of theological outlook and an appreciation of the numerical concentration of the Anglican Diaspora within the nations of the Global South. The spectacular growth of this portion of the Church has evoked a new sense of responsibility on the part of Third World bishops for the doctrinal health of the Anglican Communion and sympathy for those in the United States whom they perceive as persecuted for adhering to traditional teaching. As the theological divide has widened, so the dissenting American minority has increasingly looked for leadership outside the boundaries of the United States, a complete disruption of the American paradigm of denominational conflict in which disputes tend to be resolved by the creation of a new sect. Episcopal congregations that have fled their Church in recent years have sought refuge under the oversight of foreign bishops in other provinces of the Anglican Communion. From the former’s perspective they remain Anglicans submitting to the duly constituted authority of the Church; from the perspective of their opponents, they have defied the only legitimately constituted authority permitted within the United States. Ironically, both cases can be made with a degree of plausibility, given the currently undefined status of authority within the Anglican Communion in general.

Holding Firm to the Sure Word:

Bishops in the postwar Episcopal Church [4]

The years immediately following the Second World War represented the high tide of what Ian Douglas has called the corporatist phase of the Episcopal Church. Under Presiding Bishop Henry Sherrill (1947-1958), the Church consolidated a national ecclesiastical apparatus instituted in 1919, opening branch offices in Connecticut and Chicago in the 1950s and moving to resplendent new offices at 815 Second Avenue in New York City in 1960.[5] The sense of connection between the religious and political establishment was perhaps the strongest that it ever been in the Church’s history, with future radical Paul Moore, elected Suffragan Bishop of Washington in 1963, attesting to the sense of kinship and trust that he felt towards those members of the Kennedy administration “who had had the same upbringing as I, who had attended the same kind of private Church schools and gone on to Harvard and Yale.” [6]

The corporatist mentality was not confined to the national scene and the pastoral component of many bishops’ lives was increasingly compromised by, in the words of one observer, “the exacting routine that governs the hours of a busy executive’s life.” [7] Professional staffs and commissions isolated bishops from the warp and woof of diocesan life, thrusting them ever more and more into circles of like-minded acquaintances. Compounding this problem was a significant theological shift within the Episcopal Church that owed much to the influence of New York’s Union Theological Seminary (UTS), which trained many of the faculty who went on to serve at Episcopal seminaries throughout the country. The most notorious UTS graduate of the era was James Pike, the charismatic dean of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City (a popular radio broadcaster), elected Bishop of California in 1958. Pike’s subsequent proclaimed unhappiness with classical Christian understanding of such doctrines as the Trinity and the Virgin Birth signaled a new phase in Anglican theology in America and one initiated by a bishop. Taken in conjunction with the emerging social witness of some of his episcopal brethren, it presaged a disintegration of the existing church order. [8]

Though Pike offered the first challenge to the status quo, it fell to John Hines Bishop of Texas from 1945 to 1964, to bring about the formal shift to prophetic leadership. A bishop with a marked distaste for administration, he was the dark horse candidate for Presiding Bishop in 1964, defeating the more establishmentarian Stephen Bayne. Known as a Southern bishop committed to racial reconciliation, Hines caught the imagination of those in the Episcopal Church desirous of breaking down the barriers of race and class. Challenging the episcopal principle of broad local autonomy, Hines pressed for a prophetic and Gospel-centered response to the challenges pose by Southern segregation and working class poverty in the urban North. [9]

If there was a flaw in Hines’ approach, it was that the structures needed to bring about such an all-encompassing transformation had either never existed or were in a process of disintegration. As early as 1958, critics were lamenting the absence of mediating institutions between the diocesan bishop and the national headquarters and that situation only worsened as the 1960s wore on. [10] Conservative and even moderate Episcopal opinion lamented the absence of oversight mechanisms that characterized such racial initiatives as the General Convention Special Project of 1967. [11] Collegiality of the House of Bishops was further undermined by the impulsive activism of such bishops as Paul Moore and by the conflict arising over the pronouncements of Bishop Pike, which culminated in his trial for heresy in 1966. The inconclusive resolution of the latter (the House of Bishops merely censured Pike) did nothing to reconcile Pike’s admirers (including his theological heir John Spong) with his detractors, and only served further to divide the House of Bishops into warring camps. [12]

The precedents established during the Hines’ years (1964-1973) generally informed the actions of the Church over the next thirty years. Although his successor, John Allin – a conservative Southerner opposed to the ordination of women – represented a step back in the eyes of progressives, [13] the overall mood of the House of Bishops favored a continuation of the struggle for full inclusion of those groups perceived as excluded. In the words of Paul Moore, “If a movement of justice or a trend, such as the feminist movement, is of God, the Church should become part of it . . . This is true not only of feminism, but of the peace movement, the ecological movement, and even the demands for gay rights.” [14]

The decision of three retired bishops to anticipate the decision of the General Convention by irregularly ordaining eleven women in Philadelphia in 1974 spoke volumes about the weakness of the Church’s authority although, as with Pike, the House of Bishops censured their brethren’s actions and deemed the ordinations null and void. In 1976, when the General Convention approved the ordination of women, the House of Bishops insisted upon a conscience clause that would protect those who, for theological reasons, felt unable to recognize the validity of female ordination. While for some Anglo-Catholics even this compromise was inadequate, it prevented a wholesale exodus of the more catholic-minded from the Episcopal Church, but it testified to the increasingly polarized understanding of authority that underpinned the ecclesial apparatus. [15]

With the retirement of John Allin in 1985, the stage was set for an increasingly bitter confrontation between the progressive majority in the House of Bishops and a vocal and talented minority of Evangelical bishops who in 1987 founded the Irenaeus Fellowship to uphold the primacy of Scripture and the Tradition of the Church. [16] Theological debates during the late 1980s and early 1990s became increasingly bitter and at the General Convention of 1991 these tensions spilled over into internecine strife. Writing of a 1992 meeting of the House of Bishops, Bishop Alden Hathaway of Pittsburgh prophetically commented: “Unless the bishops honestly and directly face the root issues that divide us, as they divide the church, no amount of process management or interpersonal management can establish working relationships that will provide the pastoral leadership our church desperately needs.” In 1995, ten conservative bishops brought charges against Walter Righter, retired Bishop of Iowa, who had ordained a non-celibate homosexual. The determination of a church court that Righter had violated no doctrine or discipline of the Episcopal Church convinced many conservatives that no appeal to Anglican tradition could now be counted on to sustain their theological beliefs. The stage was thus set for a complete breakdown of collegiality in the House of Bishops.[17]

Making Disciples of All Nations:

The Evangelical Challenge to Authority [18]

Complementing the erosion of institutional authority within the Episcopal Church was the emergence of an Evangelical Anglican community within the Church. The paradigmatic Evangelical event of the nineteenth century had been the departure of a vocal minority of Evangelicals to form the Reformed Episcopal Church and American Evangelicalism had been virtually eradicated by the 1880s. [19] Its subsequent revival owed much to the development of transatlantic relationships with Evangelicals in the Church of England. [20] The most profound influence was English Evangelical John Stott who, in contrast with the historic Anglican emphasis on the Creeds and the Prayer Book, emphasized the vesting of ultimate authority in Scripture. In contrast with much postwar theological debate that stressed the role of early Christian communities in the construction of the Gospel narratives, Stott laid stress on the revelatory and inspirational qualities of the New Testament. Significantly, he set much less store by denominational integrity than was generally the case in Episcopal circles. “[Evangelicals] deplore the proliferation of churches and sects,” Stott declared in 1967, “but at the same time we would point to the impressive unity of evangelical proclamation which exists in spite of it, and which is often overlooked.” [21]

With the encouragement of Stott, Peter Moore and Philip Edgcumbe Hughes organized an American branch of the Evangelical Fellowship in the Anglican Communion in the early 1960s. In response to the Keele Conference of 1967, which helped elevate the status of Evangelicals within the Church of England, the American branch was renamed the Fellowship of Witness in 1968 and based at St. Stephen’s Church in Sewickley, Pennsylvania, whose rector, John Guest, was a born-again English Evangelical. The Fellowship sought to offer Evangelicalism to the wider Church as a model for conversion and renewal, [22] with Philip Hughes maintaining that the Church should be a missionary church, since “genuine authority [is found in] the energy of evangelical witness throughout the whole world,” and indicting bureaucratic structures and centralizing tendencies within the Church as a threat to the autonomy of independent mission societies and newspapers. “One of the greatest threats to the Church’s spirituality today,” Hughes concluded, “is the pursuit of over-organization as a means to the achievement of unity.” [23]

Hostility to centralization in no way presupposed an aversion to institutions. In response to the increasing theological chaos within the Episcopal Church, which had prompted the emergence of a movement for general renewal of the Church, [24] Evangelicals promoted the establishment of the Church’s first new seminary in decades: Trinity Episcopal School for Ministry (TESM). Based in Ambridge, Pennsylvania, TESM’s goal was the preparation of candidates for Holy Orders faithful to classical Anglican teaching and committed to congregational renewal. [25] That same year witnessed the establishment of an American affiliate of the South American Missionary Society, which sent its first missionaries to Peru in 1978. [26]

The localization of the renewal movement to southwestern Pennsylvania was enhanced by the election of Alden Hathaway, then president of the Fellowship of Witness, as Bishop of Pittsburgh in 1979. Hathaway offered moral support to the fledgling seminary, even as he championed the renewal movement at the national level, but many bishops proved reluctant to sponsor candidates for ordination to TESM and few staunch Evangelicals were elected to bishoprics during the 1980s. [27] While opportunities for TESM graduates broadened considerably during the 1990s, the seminary’s counter-cultural message and its close ties to Anglican dioceses in Africa and South America, many of whose bishops held advanced degrees from TESM, proclaimed its ambivalent relationship with the already compromised authority of the national Church.

By the early 1990s, many Evangelicals viewed the long-term prospects for renewal of the Church as increasingly unlikely. Unwilling to countenance many of the programs of the national Church, some called for withholding of funds to national agencies. Typifying this view was Father James Simons (a TESM graduate) who in 1993 denounced the failure of the Church to play an active role in mission work of any kind. Simons further added that his active parochial ministry (including social programs) was doing a far more positive work than any initiative planned from New York. “The ministry of 815 Second Avenue may be viable,” he went on, “but who knows? . . . I have never seen a report that shows a correlation between what we send to New York and how lives are being changed.” [28] The same theme was proclaimed by Bishop Fitzsimmons Allison of South Carolina, when he complained that the national Church always placed a low priority on programs devoted to education, evangelism and mission. “Projects of transferred enlightenment or ingenuous claims to hear the innate goodness of another culture are poor substitutes for the good news,” the bishop warned. [29]

If such pronouncements revealed a separatist impulse, the deliberations of the 1998 Lambeth Conference pushed American Evangelicals toward solidarity with the overwhelming majority of Bishops from the Third World. [30] The Conference established benchmarks for Anglican witness that had not previously been enunciated in any coherent fashion and Evangelical Episcopalians could with credibility maintain that the views they held were now far more in harmony with the Communion-wide consensus that the majority view in the Episcopal Church. The late 1990s also witnessed the emergence of a number of renewal organizations determined to confront what they viewed as the erosion of the Biblical foundations of the Faith, most notably the American Anglican Council (1996). [31] Solidarity with like-minded Anglicans worldwide would increasingly come to define the Evangelical modus operandi.

No Other Foundation?

The Anglican Communion and Christian Unity [32]

The divisions that have driven the Episcopal Church to the position that it now occupies must also be viewed from the perspective of the shifting character of the Anglican Communion. In 1953, the Communion was very much a British affair, with most Third World bishops selected by the Church of England or the provinces of Canada, Australia and New Zealand. With the coming of political independence, an indigenous leadership took charge of the provinces of Africa and Asia. Most of the Third World provinces adhered to the same criteria for Christian ministry popular among American Evangelicals and expressed disquiet about the changes that were occurring within the Episcopal Church. [33]

During the 1950s and early 1960s, American Anglicans grew more appreciative of the new potential of their global family as a result of the Anglican Congresses that met in Minneapolis in 1954 and Toronto in 1963 and the appointment of an American bishop, Stephen Bayne, as the first Executive Officer of the Anglican Communion. A believer in the potential of a more united Communion, Bayne repudiated the idea of synodical authority inhering in the Lambeth Conference. “The authority of this meeting, while considerable as expressive of the common mind of the Anglican episcopate, is not coercive or synodical,” he declared in 1963, “A Conference may point the way to desired action; but the essential dynamics of the Anglican Communion remain in the several churches; and the conference retains its character as the central but informal occasion of common counsel among the bishops.” Bayne nevertheless promoted the concept that came to be known as “Mutual Responsibility and Interdependence in the Body of Christ” (MRI) and a number of American dioceses cultivated companion relationships with Third World dioceses that sought to come closer to meeting these goals. [34]

While the emerging ecclesial entities of the Anglican Communion necessarily reflected a great diversity in constitutional structures and understanding of the nature of the Faith by Anglicans worldwide, they generally shared a belief in the Biblical nature of the Catholic faith, the importance of the ecumenical councils of the Early Church to the shaping of Anglican theology, and value of worship according to the forms prescribed by the Anglican Book of Common Prayer. [35] Progressive observers like Ian Douglas argue that the search for new ways for Anglicans to relate to one another provoked a reaction within established power structures that disdained any effort to adapt Anglicanism to local cultural realities. “Pluralities and multiple ways of seeing the world are an anathema to modernity,” he writes, “and thus to many who have been in control of the Anglican Communion for most of its history.” [36]

What is debatable about such a proposition is that it assumes the submission of Third World church leaders to an amorphous privileged power structure in the developed world. Since 1988, the Global South has made it very clear that it has an understanding of authority that is universal and prescriptive. [37] While clearly unwelcome to many progressive leaders in the United States, it cannot be dismissed as an attempt by wealthy conservatives in the United States to undermine duly constituted authority structures in the Episcopal Church. [38] The steady collapse of Episcopal Church authority has only accelerated since Lambeth 1998, with the consecration of missionary bishops from the United States by foreign archbishops in 2000 [39] and the decision of the 2003 General Convention to confirm the election of Vicki Gene Robinson, a divorcee who had living openly in a homosexual relationship, as Bishop of New Hampshire,. By approving Robinson, the Episcopal Church publicly committed itself to a course that would dramatically widen the gulf between a majority of Anglicans in the United States and Canada and their co-religionists in Africa and Asia. It would lead to the commissioning of The Windsor Report – a concerted effort to come to grips with the problem of inter-provincial relations regarding disputed theological issues within the Anglican Communion – by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the increasingly vocal assertion by the metropolitans of the Third World provinces for a greater say in Communion-wide affairs.

At first glance, the Episcopalian contention over the boundaries of sexual expression (and the related issue of women in Holy Orders) would seem to be no different from that affecting most mainline American Protestant churches. In the case of the Episcopal Church, however, the debate over authority is not one that can be resolved solely at the national level, given the exterior relationship with other national churches sharing a common Anglican heritage. While many American Protestant denominations adhere to worldwide federations, member churches exert only moral authority over one other. [40] By contrast, the historic Anglican inclination toward conciliarism presents a considerable challenge to those who feel that the authority of the national church must not be compromised by any exterior relationship. [41]

For half a century the Episcopal Church has been moving toward a confrontation over the nature of authority. At issue is not simply a debate over theological interpretation but a widely diverging understanding of ecclesial practice. On the one side stands a largely progressive constituency whose views may be described as autonomist. For them, American Anglicanism is simply a subset of mainstream American Protestantism, adhering to democratic norms of participation and resolving theological controversy through consensus, if possible, but by parliamentary action if necessary. Bishops are viewed, first and foremost, as executive officers charged with the efficient management of an ecclesiastical enterprise. Fraternal bonds with the wider Anglican family are seen as of great importance, but always with the understanding that national church is final arbiter of what is proper Anglican behavior in its locality.

A minority – many of them Evangelicals – favor a confessionalist approach. Confessionalists understand Anglicanism (wherever located) as an expression of Western Christianity. While they do not reject the idea of church democracy, they have serious reservations about leaving determination of doctrine to the mercy of ephemeral parliamentary majorities and accord much greater priority than autonomists to the selection of bishops on the basis of their pastoral and, above all, theological gifts. For confessionalists, the Lambeth Conference takes on a particular significance because it is composed solely of bishops (progressive critics frequently indict the Lambeth Conference precisely because it has no clerical or lay representation). While there is room for diversity on such matters as liturgy, there is no such discretion when it comes to matters of doctrine. Seeking the approval of the other provinces for dramatic departures from the existing church order is less a courtesy than a necessity. While a process of “reception” can be constituted for ecclesiastical innovations that do not raise immediate objections, this cannot be entered into unilaterally. [42] Autonomy, for the confessionalist, remains heavily circumscribed in the areas of faith and morals.

NOTES

[1] Robert W. Prichard, “The Place of Doctrine in the Episcopal Church,” in Ephraim Radner and George R. Sumner, eds., Reclaiming Faith: Essays on Orthodoxy in the Episcopal Church and the Baltimore Declaration (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1993), 28-35; William H. Katerberg, “William T. Manning: Apostolic Order and Evangelical Truth,” in Modernity and the Dilemma of North American Anglican Identities, 1880-1950 (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2001), 107-134.

[2] On Hobart’s philosophy and influence on the polity of the Episcopal Church, see Robert B. Mullin, Episcopal Vision / American Reality: High Church Theology and Social Thought in Evangelical America (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986). Such episcopal detachment frequently drove their more socially aware clergy to distraction. See Jeremy Bonner, “‘An Account of My Stewardship’: Mercer Green Johnston, the Episcopal Church and the Social Gospel in Newark, N.J., 1912-1916.” Anglican and Episcopal History 72:3 (September 2003): 298-321.

[3] It is interesting to compare this process with Joel Carpenter’s account of the shift from separatism to cultural engagement by American fundamentalists from the 1920s to the 1940s. See Joel A. Carpenter, Revive Us Again: The Reawakening of American Fundamentalism (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997).

[4] [A bishop] must hold firm to the sure word as taught, so that he may be able to give instruction in sound doctrine and also to confute those who contradict it. Titus 1:9.

[5] Ian T. Douglas, “Whither the National Church? Reconsidering the Mission Structure of the Episcopal Church,” in Robert B. Slocum, ed., A New Conversation: Essays on the Future of Theology and the Episcopal Church (New York: Church Publishing, 1999), 60-78; Henry Knox Sherrill, Among Friends (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1962), 225-234; Robert Prichard, A History of the Episcopal Church (Harrisburg, PA: Morehouse Publishing, 1999), 229-234.

[6] Paul Moore, Presences: A Bishop’s Life in the City (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1997), 207.

[7] Powel M. Dawley, The Episcopal Church and Its Work (Greenwich, CT: Seabury Press, 1955), 129.

[8] Robert W. Prichard, “The Place of Doctrine in the Episcopal Church,” 35-43; William Stringfellow and Anthony Towne, The Bishop Pike Affair: Scandals of Conscience and Heresy, Relevance and Solemnity in the Contemporary Church (New York: Harper & Row, 1967), 5-20.

[9] Kenneth Kesselus, John E. Hines, Granite on Fire (Austin, Texas: Episcopal Theological Seminary of the Southwest, 1995), 202-206, 232-3, 240-271. On Episcopal attitudes to civil rights, see Gardiner H. Shattuck, Jr., Episcopalians and Race: Civil War to Civil Rights (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2000).

[10] “The bishop who is a tyrant and the one who is weak and indecisive, are in the American Church deprived of . . . that moderating influence that in Canada and the other parts of the Anglican Communion come from the metropolitan and other bishops of the province.” Revd. Canon Albert duBois, “The Provinces: Groupings of Weakness Under a Canon of Straw,” Living Church, June 15, 1958. On institutional decline during the 1960s, see Douglas, “Whither the National Church?”

[11] Kesselus, John E. Hines, 272-286, 303-345.

[12] Moore, Presences, 173-91; Stringfellow and Towne, The Bishop Pike Affair, 57-2, 140-159.

[13] As John Spong charmingly put it: “John Maury Allin would succeed John Elbridge Hines. It was like having George Wallace succeed Abraham Lincoln.” John S. Spong, Here I Stand: My Struggle for a Christianity of Integrity, Love, and Equality (San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1999), 232.

[14] Moore, Presences, 258.

[15] Prichard, A History of the Episcopal Church, 255-257; Spong, Here I Stand, 235-236. “Allin’s brand of leadership, concerned as it was with reconciling and placating, turned the House of Bishops into the Hall of Compromise,’ writes Walter Righter, “Efforts to compromise produced more tension than reconciliation.” See A Pilgrim’s Way (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1998), 90.

[16] These included William Frey of Colorado, FitzSimmons Allison of South Carolina and Alden Hathaway of Pittsburgh.

[17] Prichard, A History of the Episcopal Church, 283-293; Spong, Here I Stand, 310-312, 388-390, 401-409; Righter, A Pilgrim’s Way, 35-37, 55-84, 100-114, 128-131. Hathaway is quoted in the newspaper of the Diocese of Pittsburgh. See Trinity, March 1992.

[18] Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Matthew 28:19.

[19] On nineteenth century Evangelicalism, see Allen C. Guelzo, “Ritual, Romanism and Rebellion: The Disappearance of the Evangelical Episcopalians, 1853-1873.” Anglican and Episcopal History 62:4 (December 1993): 551-577; Ibid., For the Union of Evangelical Christendom: The Irony of the Reformed Episcopalians (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1994); Diana H. Butler, Standing Against the Whirlwind: Evangelical Episcopalians in Nineteenth-Century America (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995).

[20] This relationship worked both ways. English Evangelicalism was at low ebb prior to the revivals led by Billy Graham in the early 1950s. One of the products of these revivals was John Guest, who later came to the United States and became a leading voice in Anglican Evangelicalism. See Randle Manwaring, From Controversy to Co-Existence: Evangelicals in the Church of England, 1914-1980 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1985), 87-95.

[21] John R. W. Stott, “Jesus Christ Our Teacher and Lord: Towards Solving the Problem of Authority,” in J. I. Packer, ed., Guidelines: Anglican Evangelicals Face the Future (London: Falcon Books, 1967), 39-66. For a profile of Stott, see Roger Steer, Church on Fire: The Story of Anglican Evangelicals (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1998), 268-76.

[22] See http://www.episcopalian.org/efac/articles/efachst.html. On the Keele Conference see Manwaring, From Controversy to Co-Existence, 174-90.

[23] Philip Edgcumbe Hughes, “The Credibility of the Church: Understanding the Church in an Ecumenical Age,” in Packer, Guidelines, 147-79 (quotes on 151 and 157).

[24] Alistair E. McGrath, The Renewal of Anglicanism (Harrisburg, PA: Morehouse Publishing, 1993), 49-64. Renewal took both charismatic and non-charismatic forms. On the former, see Dennis and Rita Bennett, The Holy Spirit and You: A Study-Guide to the Spirit-Filled Life (Plainfield, NJ: Logos International, 1971). One of the popular texts for non-charismatics was Richard F. Lovelace, Dynamics of Spiritual Life: An Evangelical Theology of Renewal (Downers Grove, IL: Inter-Varsity Press, 1979).

[25] TESM was founded in 1976 and moved to Ambridge in 1978. Despite the Evangelical ethos that motivated its founders, a decision was made early in the seminary’s existence that mutual respect would be shown to the three ‘streams’ of Anglican liturgical practice: the Evangelical; the Anglo-Catholic; and the Charismatic. Thus, while TESM undertook to prepare women for Holy Orders, it also guaranteed that the consciences of Anglo-Catholic seminarians – who opposed the ordination of women – would be respected. See Steer, Church on Fire, 348-361 and Janet Leighton, Lift High the Cross: A History of Trinity Episcopal School for Ministry (Wheaton, IL: Harold Shaw Publishers, 1995).

[26] http://www.episcopalian.org/efac/articles/efachst.html.

[27] The exceptions were Terrence Kelshaw, a former TESM professor, and John Howe, rector of Truro Church in Fairfax, Virginia, who were both elevated to the episcopate in 1989.

[28] Simons’ article, entitled “Parish-Eye View of Ministry and Structure,” first appeared in the newsletter Anglican Opinion. It was reproduced in the diocesan newspaper. See Trinity, September 1993.

[29] Fitzsimmons Allison, “Evangelism: The Transformation of Trivialisation,” in Timothy Bradshaw, ed., Grace and Truth in the Secular Age (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1998), 119-27 (quote on 125).

[30] See the essays in After Lambeth in Mission and Ministry 11:2 (Spring 2000).

[31] http://www.americananglican.org/site/c.ikLUK3MJIpG/b.564139/k.A6A2/How_We_Began.htm.

[32] According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and another man is building upon it. Let each man take care how he builds upon it. For no other foundation can any one lay than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. 1 Corinthians 3:10-11.

[33] On the origins of the Communion, see Stephen Platten, Augustine’s Legacy: Authority and Leadership in the Anglican Communion (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 1997), 57-72. The implications of the rise of Christianity in the Global South are discussed by Philip Jenkins in The Next Christendom: The Coming of Global Christianity (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002).

[34] John Booty, An American Apostle: The Life of Stephen Fielding Bayne, Jr. (Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1997), 96-119. The memorandum is quoted on 98.

[35] Philip H. Thomas, “A Family Affair: The Pattern of Constitutional Authority in the Anglican Communion,” in Stephen W. Sykes, ed., Authority in the Anglican Communion: Essays Presented to Bishop John Howe (Toronto, Canada: Anglican Book Centre, 1987), 119-143; David Hammid, “The Nature and Shape of the Contemporary Anglican Communion,” in Ian T. Douglas and Kwok Pui-Lan, eds., Beyond Colonial Anglicanism: The Anglican Communion in the Twenty-First Century (New York: Church Publishing Inc., 2001), 71-98.

[36] Ian. T. Douglas, “The Exigency of Times and Occasions: Power and Identity in the Anglican Communion,” in Douglas and Pui-Lan, Beyond Colonial Anglicanism, 25-46 (quote on 30).

[37] See http://www.globalsouthanglican.org/index.php for some examples. Some centralization of function has also taken place within the office of the Archbishop of Canterbury. See Platten, Augustine’s Legacy, 133-148.

[38] This is the subtext of James Solheim’s Diversity or Disunity? Reflections on Lambeth 1998 (New York: Church Publishing, 1999).

[39] http://anglicansonline.org/archive/news/articles/2000/000130a.html. One of those bishops was John Rodgers, retired dean of Trinity Episcopal School for Ministry.

[40] Some American denominations also have members in other nations. In the United Methodist Church, for example, 25 percent of the bishops, 20 percent of the laity and 15 percent of the clergy belong to jurisdictions outside the United States (which are also among the fastest growing). American-born leaders continue to exercise denominational authority, however. For statistics on the United Methodists, see http://archives.umc.org/interior.asp?ptid=6&mid=2119#8

[41] See The Windsor Report, Section C, Paragraphs 97-104, and the discussion of the nature of Anglican conciliarism in Frederick H. Shriver, “Councils, Conferences and Synods,” in Stephen Sykes, John Booty and Jonathan Knight, eds., The Study of Anglicanism (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1998), 202-216.

[42] Note the discussion of the process by which women’s ordination was accorded reception status within the Anglican Communion in The Windsor Report, Section A, Paragraphs 12-21.

Covenant, Consequence and Intent: A Second Exchange with Father Jim Stockton

2009-05-18T13:46:00.005-04:00

Another discussion that began with a House of Bishops and Deputies posting by Father Stockton of Church of the Resurrection, Austin, Texas. Father Stockton gave his permission for these to appear.

The original post:

Still no reason for a covenant -

He has made himself abundantly clear: the Archbishop of Canterbury is intent on imposing a covenant upon the Churches of the Anglican Communion. One can only wonder why he is intent on this end, for he has offered no real purpose for it. The sum of all his apologetic is that a covenant is an end that justifies itself. He fails to offer a genuine and theological purpose for it. On the one hand he notes that the Churches do function and serve in effective partnership with one another. On the other hand, he implies that without a covenant the Churches will not be able to continue to do so. His reliance upon a false and implied logic exemplifies a plain truth of the matter: neither he nor anyone one has yet offered a serious reason for pursuing a covenant. Many have offered justifications for the concept of covenant per se, but no one has offered anything that approaches a compelling inspiration for this particular effort. This effort was initiated bureaucratically through the Windsor Report (even though the Primates themselves meeting at Dromantine expressed reservations toward the pursuit of a covenant) which was itself a response to the use of parliamentary bullying and the socio-politcally 'conservative' propaganda by emerging-world primates who were then and are still being funded and manipulated by hard-right American money. The Archbishop of Canterbury, apparently possessed of a curious notion of his role as somehow the head of a single global Church, now seems intent upon imposing this view of his own rights and privileges upon the wider Anglican Communion.

His address to the recent meeting of the Anglican Consultative Council help exemplify his position. "The Anglican Communion has never called itself 'a church' in its official documents and yet as a world-wide communion -- not just a federation -- it has claimed for itself and claimed particularly in relation to its ecumenical partners that it is precisely more than just an assembly of local churches that happen to belong to the same bureaucracy. It has tried to behave in a church-like way: recognizing ordained ministry, sharing sacraments, sharing teaching and to a large extent doctrinal formulations and canonical positions" (ENS May 5, 2009). Reality contradicts the Archbishop's claims. In fact, the Churches do not belong to the same bureaucracy. In fact, the Churches have not "tried to behave in a church-like way;" unless such behavior equates to the efforts of autonomous and autocephalous Churches working cooperatively on specific goals and ministries. If this is the case, then where lies the need, much less the inspiration, for a covenant? Further, it is a fact that the Churches of the Communion do not universally 'recognize ordained ministry, share sacraments, teaching, and doctrinal formulations and canonical positions' any more than, for instance, the Episcopal Church and the Lutheran Church. An American clergy person's ordination does not automatically translate to ordination in the Church of England; he or she is not an English priest and is not allowed to function as such without application for license to do so. As is true respectively for each Church of the Communion, the Episcopal Church in the United States ordains clergy in and only for the Episcopal Church in the United States. Any exception to the rule is exactly that, an exception. It may be that the Church of England, or just the Archbishop of Canterbury, would prefer it to be otherwise. Nevertheless, we are not a Roman Catholic style Church. The reality simply is not what the Archbishop describes in his remarks. In fact, the reality of the Anglican Communion is ecumenical in the sense of the ancient Church. Rather than trying to change this to recreate the Anglican Communion in the image of jolly old England or of the Roman Church, we should be celebrating the distinctive gifts that this venerable model offers the world.

It is, I think, manipulative and unkind of the ABC to imply that Churches who may not look favorably upon a covenant are somehow lesser in their faithfulness to Christ-like fellowship and ministry. Yet he does exactly this when he declares "that provinces of the communion that choose to adopt the proposed Anglican covenant when it is made available will be showing that they 'want to create a more intense relationship between them -- a fuller and freer exchange between them.'" (ENS May 12, 2009). He goes on to suggest that once a covenant is in place, then more will need to be added: "Others," he says, "are not choosing that (i.e. "to adopt the proposed covenant") and the difficult question is: what is the best and most constructive relationship between those who do choose and those who do not" (ibid.). He declares that with some Churches signing on and "others" not doing so, what will be needed then is "some other kind of structure with 'groups of Anglicans associated for different purposes in different ways'" (ibid.). Again, he implies something that simply isn't true. He implies that if all the Churches, rather than only some, will adopt a covenant, then all will be well. I suggest, to the contrary, that whether the adoption is partial or wholly Communion-wide, any adoption of "the covenant." will require a new structure. And, I suggest, the ABC fully anticipates exactly this.

The ABC's remarks strike me as a thinly veiled warning to those Churches that would dare consider non-compliance. Despite the fact that the Church of England, bound by its status as a national institution, is well ahead of TEC on recognizing same-sex civil unions, the Archbishop of Canterbury is singling out the Episcopal Church in the United States as an example of those likely "others" among the Churches. He suggests that we of TEC had best not dare to set aside B033 of our last General Convention and return to observing our democratically established canons forbidding discrimination around sexual orientation in discernment of a person's fitness for and call to Holy Orders. He claims that "'holding back' on the episcopal ordination of people living in same-gender relationships 'ought not to be seen as a denial of the place of lesbian and gay people in the life of Christ's body'" (ENS May 12, 2009). This twisted logic may make some illusory rhetorical sense. However, it denies the reality that 'holding back' is an autocratic assignment of a particularly and amorally defined group of people to a remnant margin. The Archbishop of Canterbury is issuing an official call for the Churches of the Anglican Communion to continue participating in official discrimination, and he does so for reasons that are purely and pathetically political.

Yet, he suggests that, should TEC ignore his endorsement of the moratoria, we will be demonstrating our choice "not to go down the route of closer structural bonds and [of] that particular kind of mutual responsibility" (ibid.). Does anyone see anything 'mutually responsible' about the ABC's circumvention of the Anglican Consultative Council's decision not to forward to the Churches the proposed covenant? For my part, I pray that TEC chooses exactly as the ABC uncharitably characterizes he fears we will do. The Archbishop's description of 'some other kind of structure' sounds very much like the one that is now being demanded by the self-anointed 'Anglican Church in North America' and their boundary-crossing foreign prelates. It also sounds like one that the ABC will be able successfully to sell to the English Parliament and the Queen. With "the covenant" as the fulcrum and the Archbishop of Canterbury (and thus the English monarchy) firmly in place as authoritative head of this new covenanted global Church, the new structure will resonate well with hard-dying English imperialistic impulses.

Watch for it. The ABC will continue to impose upon our conversations about a covenant his own vocabulary, speaking more frequently and plainly of the Anglican Communion as a 'Church.' I anticipate that he will use these terms purposefully, hoping that, after having repeated them long enough and often enough, he will have succeeded in creating a new perception of reality, replacing fact with fantasy, reason with dogma. Undoubtedly, the Archbishop will continue to tell us that the Anglican Communion is not 'just a federation', not merely 'an assembly of local churches,' hoping to train us to assume that there is more and that we should want it. He will then begin more overtly defining for us what that 'more' is. My guess is that he will soon begin to imply, and then overtly to tell us in no uncertain terms, that we 'are' already and 'historically have been' a Church, albeit in a unique way. We will continue to hear and see the same from all those whose sense of institutional inadequacy drives them similarly to try create an Anglican imitation of Rome.

My prayer is that the Episcopal Church in the United States and the Anglican Church of Canada, along with some of our fellow "others" of the Anglican Communion Churches, will not succumb. Institutionally, structurally, no Church of the Anglican Communion is an appendage of a global "Anglican Church". However, organically, spiritually, ministerially, and missionally, we are already united one to another, and with no further covenant that the historic creeds of the Church catholic. We are united not by virtue of our Anglicanism, which is secondary at best, but by our kinship in Christ. TEC and our fellow "others" need to lead the way in listening past the increasingly shrill demand for a covenant. We need to reject the use of rhetoric that includes talk of 'The Covenant,' as though such a thing is already established. We will, I pray, not be misled to assume that it is an accomplished fact. It is not. There is no such thing as 'The Covenant.' It does not exist, and language that speaks of it as though it does is inaccurate at best and deceptive at worst. There is only 'a' proposed covenant. And it is a proposal without any express inspiration. It is a proposal awash in desperation. It is merely a proposed covenant. And I pray that we will reject it as a conceptual artifact.

My first response:

You and I have differed before as to the nature of the Communion relationship and neither of us are likely to change. I would ask, though, that you reconsider the use of the term "funded and manipulated by hard-right American money." In the first place, it is demeaning to the Global South episcopate, implying their inability to discern motive and willingness to surrender principle for filthy lucre. Even a scholar like Miranda Hassett (a fellow presbyter of yours and with progressive credentials) concluded from her researches that conservatives (North and South) adopted their theological stance out of principle (and took seriously their own moral deficiencies).

The simple truth is that there are many "money trails," both liberal (the "new" listening process) and conservative. Isn't a simpler explanation that people committed to their faith are willing to put their money where their mouth is? When one thinks of those cases of the 1990s when people stole from the national church for personal benefit, it seems sad that things like Anglican Relief and Development (which, at some level, sought to provide alternative sources of revenue to Global South provinces that had refused TEC help) should be viewed in the same way.

Naturally you reject the "theological dogmatism" of ACNA and the disloyal opposition (if I may so put it) but you don't have to reduce it merely to power politics. If you read any economic article that Kendall Harmon posts on T19, you'll immediately see a lot of economic liberals come out of the woodwork; it's unusual to find a corresponding rush of economic conservatives on liberal sites (though there must be some).

Can we not just assume that there are two visions and that both are assumed out of a conviction of what the Gospel message implies? That's certainly how I view the progressive approach. It has its own logic; I just can't reconcile some of the premises with my understanding of Scripture.

Father Stockton's response:

The hard-right sources of American money are fully open that they are after political power. I don't underestimate the several Primates of African Churches and those of the Southern Cone. I have every expectation that they, too, know exactly what they are doing. If it were about anything truly more than power politics, then, pray tell, why are they adamant about the property? I'm quite sure that people on all sides are using the Gospel to convince themselves of the righteousness of their nefarious behavior. I'm just not sure that God is convinced. I'm quite that I am not.

My second response:

As far as the property is concerned (and while I think it perfectly legal, it wouldn't be my approach) I think we've inherited the Episcopal predilection with institutionalism - that property is one of the defining marks of church. Perhaps it's naivete on my part, but I suspect that if there had been greater willingness to concede Anglican identity to those departing we would have seen less resort to the courts (even if that meant abandonment of property), but the Presiding Bishop apparently didn't want that.

How is it that conservative money (and behavior) is always "nefarious" and liberal money (and behavior) never is? Miranda was in a perfect position to write a stinging expose of the "conservative conspiracy" (and when I saw the title of her book I thought she had), but did not. There are liberal projects funded (I lived in the Diocese of Washington for some years, so my money ended up going to things of which I did not approve) and liberal coalitions organized for General Convention and yet these always seem to be described as "principled." Surely you're not saying that majority sentiment is the ultimate arbiter of moral correctness?

I suppose if one reaches the point of seeing things in Manichean terms, then any language used to describe the "other" is acceptable, but most people I know in Pittsburgh are much more "gray" (as are, I suspect, most of the Primates). Shouldn't our objective be to find a solution acceptable to all, even if it involves accommodating the failings of those with whom we differ?

Many people on HOBD seem to assume that now the renegades have withdrawn, there's no cost in exacting whatever penalties can be imposed. Some of my liberal acquaintances would beg to differ. At our last chapter meeting, Lynn Edwards - PEP chaplain and one of the Pittsburgh pioneers of care for those suffering from AIDS - remarked that God had put on his heart to write Bob Duncan a letter of encouragement, even though he was no longer his bishop. Lynn is an unsual presbyter but I thought he caught the sense of ambiguity in our diocesan communities remarkably well.

Father Stockton's response:

By 'acceptable to all' would you mean that the Church would have done better to have found a way to tolerate both slavery and abolition? Should the Church have found a way to accommodate both inclusion of women in clerical orders and clerical discrimination against women at the same time?

And if you'll take a moment to catch your breath, perhaps you'll notice that in my response, which you've copied below, my comment is that "I'm quite sure that people on all sides are using the Gospel to convince themselves of the righteousness of their nefarious behavior." It seems you missed it, so let me emphasize my point that the operative word is "all." However, I'm willing to accept your implication that it is "conservative money (and behavior) [that is] always 'nefarious.'"

In addition, simply 'conceding Anglican identity' is not how truth and fact works. By that logic, why don't we simply call ourselves Roman? Why use the term Anglican at all? But the fact of distinction, and the nature of the particular distinction do in fact matter. Simply conceding that someone is what they wish to claim that they are, does not make it so; not to mention the fact that this approach is equivalent to delusional. What does real identity matter as long as we can all just claim to be what we wish? The Church as an institution AND as an organic community bears responsibility to those who have given to it in the past, those who give to it now, and those who may give to it in the future. People gave their donations of time and money to the Episcopal Church. Yes, they gave in large part to particular congregations, but they were congregations of the Episcopal Church, not of the Lutheran Church or some invented church yet to be named. Those people are owed faithful fiduciary practice by we who follow, we who have built upon and enjoyed the fruits of their giving. And if we now blithely give away Church property to the group that whines the loudest, dare we hope, much less expect, people to give to the Church now? Why would they? They would have glaring evidence before them of our unwillingness to treat their giving responsibly, and in accord with our own canons.

In conclusion, I note that it was he self-proclaimed 'conservatives' who enjoyed dominant influence when Gentiles were told by the infant Church that they were second-class members of God's Kingdom. The 'conservatives' in the Episcopal Church held dominance when slavery was in fact tolerated (remember: it was the Methodist Church, not the Episcopal, who came out during the Civil War and declared itself official opposed to slavery), when bigotry against black Americans was not only tolerated but also part official policy, when women who dared claim that God was calling them to Holy Orders were ridiculed into silence and departure, when people who had been divorced were rendered unworthy of full access to the sacraments, and until a few decades ago, when fags and queers were officially condemned. Certainly you are able to set forward specific examples of incidents of abuses of power by so-called 'liberals.' I challenge you to find an historic thread through the entire history of the Church that can be assigned to 'liberalism' and has caused the massive harm, in Christ's Name no less, that 'conservatism' has inflicted. You'll understand, perhaps, why I'm skeptical now of 'conservatives' cries of injury and offense just because they no longer get to dictate according to their self-serving prejudices.

Gray is fine, but it is only recognizable as such, because the black and white to which it is compared still exist. I don't think truth is measured by popularity. Jesus asked people to make a choice and follow him at a call. I give God thanks the he didn't waste his time trying to find a alternative that was 'acceptable to all,' even though those 'all' in his day believed themselves faithful to God.

My third response:

We could, of course, continue these exchanges indefinitely without convincing the other, so we'll have to draw a line at some point. However, since you raise a couple of interesting issues.

I did not mean by "acceptable to all" (a phrase I don't think I used) to refer to theological positions held, but rather an effort to find a means to recognize incompatibility and deal with it. With all due respect, you know that analogies with slavery and female ordination miss the point. After all, the Episcopal antislavery movement was birthed among those pesky moralizing Evangelicals who were determined to be countercultural. As to women's ordination, again about half the renewal movement (including those contrarian Pittsburghers) are on board with it.

The presenting issue - warped and distorted by all the wrangling - reflects a debate not confined to proof texts but embracing an understanding of sexuality and a theology of the body within the context of heterosexual marriage and procreation and most of the people I'm acquainted with believe that. Of course, there are frequent failures (mine included) but there is a sincere desire to try to practice what we preach.

I note that people like Louie Crewe have questioned whether most heterosexual conservatives actually lived up to their principles before they were married. Well I can't speak for anyone but myself, but I was married five years ago at the age of 34 and I was a virgin then. I don't hold this up as a great virtue (perhaps it was just lack of opportunity) but I certainly had to exercise restraint on occasion while engaged. That by the way.

The real issue is that of two widely diverging understandings of what is involved, whose proponents are much more consistent than the institutionalists in the middle. And, ultimately, one must be right and one must be wrong. The trouble is that there seems to be no easy way to cut the Gordian knot. If conservatives are right in their reading, then to accuse them of a lack of compassion misses the mark; if liberals are right, then to deny sacramental access (Marriage not the Eucharist) is erroneous.

If it is wrong to deny the local majority for innovation, it is equally wrong to deny the majority view across the Anglican Communion and the Church Catholic (at least I so believe). But even if you don't share that view, there is still an argument for a negotiated settlement in that there are many people - even perhaps in Fort Worth - who currently have friendships across the theological divide that will be poisoned and that could have consequences down the road (especially if your argument ultimately carries the day beyond North America). We can't turn back the clock but only deal with the consequences as best we may. The theological stances must remain, but we have it in our power to stop the legal juggernaut. Remember the "Barnburner" sobriquet applied to the extreme political abolitionists - they wanted to burn down the barn to get rid of the rats. Can't you see that unfolding in the here and now?

I did note your phrase about using the Gospel, but to me that was way removed from any sense of mutual recognition; more a sense of progressives "applying" the Gospel and conservatives "using" it as justification. My point was that both sides are using it consistently and in as principled a fashion as they can (with some exceptions on both sides). That was not what I inferred from your communication.

As far as fiduciary duty is concerned, what does that mean? Of course we honor the Church Expectant, but we also recognize that the church has evolved and grown over time (liberals even more than conservatives). So our fidelity is simply to the fact that they gave money to a body carrying the same name (actually, of course, not the same, since most gave to the Protestant Episcopal Church). Historic Anglo Catholic and Evangelical identities have vanished from those churches in which they were first manifested, while southern parishes, whose former members believed devoutly in social and religious segregation, now campaign for civil rights, and parishes that opposed the ordination of women to the presbyterate now have female incumbents. Most of the dead would never have given money to the Episcopal Church as currently constituted. That's fine, things change, but it's hardly an argument for keeping the property merely to comply with the wishes of the dead.

Why should one give in to the "most shrill" voices at this time? Because this time, unlike any other, there are facts on the ground - in the US and abroad - that promise a substantive jurisdiction in the Americas with or without Episcopal consent and because the issue under debate is fundamental - and acknowledged by liberal and conservative alike to be so. This wasn't true for the REC (most Evangelicals had either left prior to the rupture or chose to stay - the best analogy would be with AMIA).

You ask whether liberalism or conservatism has done more damage. Surely that in itself is a loaded question, predicated on one's theological perspective? Or, to put it another way, it depends on who is "right" in a transcendent sense.

I've always had a fondness for the Social Gospelers (countercultural to a man) and I can applaud those who led the civil rights protests (though I think John Allin got a raw deal). I do think Pike and Spong did great damage to doctrinal teaching of the church, but what I resent most is less their speculation than the Episcopal Church's surrender to prevailing cultural mores both on divorce (and conservatives have to answer for that too) and on abortion. As the author of a recent history of this diocese, I can tell you that what jumpstarted the renewal movement here were moves at several conventions during the 1970s to take a more pro-abortion stance. It is interesting that some of the more prominent advocates of same-sex inclusion (in its broadest sense) are also promoters of pro-choice perspectives. It does point to a rather selective view of human dignity where the rights of the most vulnerable are neglected (and yes, I know the counter-arguments).

If your position is that many conservatives are judgmental, self-righteous and frequently unwilling to dialogue, I would answer that this may well be true. The problem is that (a) the same holds good for many liberals and (b) when people talk of deeply held convictions they are apt to "sound" that way to the unconvinced. No doubt you resent your former bishop far more than Lynn Edwards resents Bob Duncan (and perhaps you have reason), but then I think of Andrew Smith's "raid" on St. John's, Bristol, several years ago and suspect that there are also conservatives with good cause to resent (or worse). History is not going to deal kindly with this period of our common life and how much better a legacy it would be if people like me could document a resolution that conceded nothing in essentials but recognized the good faith of all parties. None of us would be the poorer for that.

Father Stockton's response:

You are, I think quite right, that we are not to convince one another to change our respective opinions on inclusion of gay people and gay couples in the life and ministry of the Church. For instance, I believe that analogies with slavery and "female ordination"(?) are exactly to the point. With respect, to you and to Louis Crewe, whether or not you, he, or gay or straight persons anywhere at anytime have lived up to vows of fidelity matters not at all to the moral and spiritual right or wrong of a particular view. Just because someone does or doesn't keep his of her marriage vows, this has nothing to do with whether or not the concept of said vows is morally good and spiritually responsive to God. If practice trumps ideals, then let's quite prescribing behavior and just describe instead. I think Louie's point is that the self-proclaimed 'conservatives' (what they really are is for God to discern) are naming gay people and lesbians as intrinsically immoral, and that they would do well to challenge their own immorality before levying that charge against someone else. But again, practices hypocrisy does not nullify the verity or morality of a position per se.

As for your argument about fiduciary responsibility, let's suppose we extend that argument beyond merely TEC. By you logic, we should now turn over all property of the Church of England to the citizenry at large for their use as they determine, since the absence of most of Britain from Church life indicates clearly that the C of E is largely irrelevant in their lives. Now let's apply this logic to the Roman Church. The institutional Church holds title to the properties. The Church isn't simply invention our of thin air its duty to go to court and retain property that it owns. What's the mystery in this? If we want to go with squatters' rights are regards material property, we'd better be careful, since we'll be surrender the protection that the courts offer us in keeping what belongs to us. There are in place already, via civil law, processes for the selling of real estate. Dioceses and the Church as a whole need to pay attention to these. If a bishop decides that it would be prudent to sell a piece of property to a dissenting congregation, then let that bishop consult with the title-holder, the TEC holding a determinative share of that title, and with the proposed purchasers. I'd suggest also that the property be put up on the open market, as well, in order to secure a fair price. However, cries of injustice from those who wish to leave TEC but take TEC's property with them have no grounds in reality. One can sympathize with their emotional grief or resentment, but ignorance of the canons is no excuse for them to claim property that does not belong to them. Once donations are made to the Church, they belong to the Church. If people are doubtful about that, then they need to offer loans instead of gifts, and then not take the take credit for their donations.

As I did earlier, I do here again, concede that you can always find example of misuse of power and authority by so-called 'liberals.' You have done so again. However, I note that you offer no counterpoint to my proposition that the propagation of bigotry and groundless discriminations that pepper world and Church history stem from self-identified 'conservative' defenders of the faith. Yes, rejection of the Gentiles by the early Church, the horrors of the Inquisition, slavery, racial segregation, ordination of clergy who are women, and now official discrimination against gay people and anyone else whose manner of life might offend someone else are all examples of the influence of misuse of power by 'conservatives.' You will, perhaps, recall, that I've also challenged the self-serving hypocrisy of those calling themselves 'liberals' who are joining the call for waiting, for validating the bigotry of the Communion's bigots by TEC's participation in "the Covenant." These are the folks who themselves enjoy a place at the table, but somehow persuade themselves that it is conscionable to turn to those forced to remain outside and tell them, 'Hey, I'm on your side.' However, as loathsome a creature as he or she may be, the well-intentioned arm-chair liberal is merely a passive enabler of the aggressive bigotries of 'conservative,' bigotries that have plagued civilized societies and the Church through history.

I encourage you to re-read Martin Luther King, Jr.'s essay 'Why We Can't Wait.' He, like Ghandi before him, like Oscar Romero after him, understood that bigotry harms all, the bigot as much as the object of the bigotry. Knowing this, I find it unconscionable to label as Christian a position, like that of the Archbishop of Canterbury, that urges continued moratoria on offering the option of blessing of same-sex and on denying the constitutional consideration of someone for election to serve as bishop simply because that person's 'manner of life' may, possibly, perhaps, could, be offensive to someone overseas in another Church. Every major argument, i.e. tradition, scripture, historical precedent, social norm, and majority opinion, being offered now to justify continued bigotry and prejudice against gay people has been used formerly to justify similar discrimination against people of color, people of lower social status, enslaved persons, and people who are women. Aside from adjustments of the specific examples offered to suit the specific prejudice being defended, I suggest that there is very little you can do to deny that this is true.

Finally, I believe that, if you go back and re-read your previous message, you'll find that you mentioned seeking a resolution to the discord that is 'acceptable to all.' My response is intended to encourage you and others recognize that insofar as both sides, i.e. the Church and the departers, are claiming ownership physical property there is no solution that is acceptable to all. One will win this one, and one will lose. This is as it should be when it comes to intransigence born of and fueled by bigotry, don't' you think? It's past time for TEC to grow up and grow a conscience.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

2009-05-04T20:32:00.006-04:00

I got this in a paper from one of my religious history students describing one of the consequences of Billy Graham's English crusades of the 1950s (I trust the sage of Grove Farm will appreciate it).

"John Guest was an Anglican who converted to Christianity."

Timely Words from Bishop Mark Lawrence

2009-04-08T22:08:00.002-04:00

No matter how pressured we feel by the events around us, (and they are there to be sure—as individual priests and deacons, as a Church, as a diocese—within and without—and in each of our parishes); no matter how buffeted we have been by our calling—the weariness of our ministry; the hours of silent toil; those weeks when the Word seems silent; those Saturday nights when sermon work and study have yielded what seems like only a thin broth (we’ve all been there), and you plead with a seemingly cold heaven for a word to give to your people; when the faithful in your flock seem to have no patience with solid food and itchy ears for whatever is new; when you are heartsick from your own sin; parched and dry throated in your own personal spiritual desert—it is then you dare not forget that this ministry is given to you by the mercy of God. That is, your calling is not only rooted in the mercy of God, it has been given to you as God’s mercy—to you. And remember this: it is not only given to us who are ordained; it is the case for all who have been called into relationship with Jesus Christ—who have come to know his saving grace—the forgiveness of sins. We all have this ministry by the mercy of God. It is only the wonder of this mercy that can sustain us when we are tempted to neglect our duty, or grow weary in our work.

Certainly if you are an academic you can preach powerfully with an academic bent. If you are a poet you can preach with a poetic grace. God will honor what he has made. But you cannot seek to create a favorable opinion of yourself and at the same time preach the gospel. To be truthful with God’s word is to let the truth of Jesus Christ—his cross, his resurrection, his Lordship—take center stage. You see, we each face a decision. We can put ourselves on the center stage of our ministry and we will bring people to ourselves, perhaps for a season; or we can put Jesus Christ on the center stage of ministry and bring people to him for all eternity. But we cannot do both. They are mutually exclusive. We know well enough self will feed neither ourselves nor those we are called to serve.

Read it all at http://www.dioceseofsc.org/mt/archives/000402.html

Another Year, Another Chrism Mass

2009-04-06T23:00:00.004-04:00

A year ago, I reported on the "Last Chrism Mass" in the Diocese of Pittsburgh. Of course, it was not exactly the last. This year, Trinity Cathedral - again in the spirit of our resolution - is hosting two Chrism Masses, one for the continuing Episcopal Diocese (today) and one for the realigned Episcopal Diocese (tomorrow).

Since I teach a class at Duquesne University on Tuesday mornings, I am not able to be present tomorrow, but I put in an appearance today. As near as I could judge there were around 35 priests and Bishop Robert Johnson in attendance. To my surprise, the laity present (all three of us) were invited to present the clergy to the bishop, prior to the renewal of vows, a pleasing touch in my humble opinion. (It's a nice point whether I actually should have have been doing the presenting, since I'm not yet clear to which body I belong, but then nor does anyone else at Trinity, so I figure it's excusable).

Bishop Johnson preached an irreproachable sermon, alluding to those presbyters from whom members of this body were now sadly separated. When he went on to talk of rebuilding the diocese (which obviously has to be done) I did feel he went a little over the top in making a comparison with St. Francis, but perhaps he merely meant to emphasize the magnitude of the task ahead. He spoke of the feelings of wonderment that most must feel at being a priest in this place at this time (he did not anticipate being in Pittsburgh a year ago, he admitted) and urged the clergy not to forget their calling in the passing anguish of the moment.

Among those present were many of the communion conservative clergy (some of whom I know personally and others by repute) to whom I feel theologically closest. It is nonsense, at least in this place, to see only sheep in one jurisdiction and goats in another. While I can often appreciate the logic of the federal conservative arguments, this doesn't translate for me into a belief that only in ACNA can one be faithful. At today's Mass there were present those who have experienced the agony of Gethsemane every day since realignment. May it be that those at tomorrow's gathering will be equally appreciative of what has been lost as well as what has been gained.

Pittsburgh's Diocesan History Now Available

2009-02-04T12:30:00.008-05:00

The history of the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh through the General Convention of 2006 is now available for purchase from Wipf & Stock.

ENDORSEMENTS

Called Out of Darkness Into Marvelous Light is a scholarly, accessible and timely history of one of the most important forces in the present Reformation of Anglicanism and, in turn, of contemporary Western Christianity. Dr. Bonner examines the factors contributing to the realization of Dr Sam Shoemaker’s vision (that someday Pittsburgh would be “as famous for God as for Steel”) in the context of 250 years of Anglican witness in Western Pennsylvania. This book has relevance far beyond the ministry and mission of the particular Christian community it chronicles.

The Rt. Revd. Robert Duncan, Bishop of Pittsburgh; Archbishop-Designate of the Anglican Church in North America.

Jeremy Bonner presents a detailed, thoughtful, and even-handed account of the history of the Diocese of Pittsburgh, now central to struggles over Anglican identity and authority. Bonner’s work combines the satisfying weight of local history with the thought-provoking breadth of national and global implications. This is a fascinating and rewarding read for those seeking to understand the history of the “culture wars” within the Episcopal Church.

The Rev. Dr. Miranda K. Hassett, author of Anglican Communion in Crisis: How Episcopal Dissidents and Their Anglican Allies Are Reshaping Anglicanism (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2007).

In recent years when I have mentioned that I am from the Diocese of Pittsburgh some have responded by giving me a hug while others have (literally!) turned their backs and walked away. What has made even the mention of this diocese so polarizing? Jeremy Bonner’s detailed but readable study of the 250-year history of Anglicanism in western Pennsylvania sheds light on this surprisingly important epicenter in the modern story of Christianity in America and Anglicanism worldwide. Most local histories are relevant and interesting to those who call that place home. This volume should be much more widely read because this particular local place has become such a focal point both for conflict and for renewal.

Grant LeMarquand, Academic Dean and Associate Professor of Biblical Studies and Mission, Trinity (Episcopal) School for Ministry.

Becoming Icons: Trinity Cathedral’s Search for Graced Space

2009-01-17T16:42:00.004-05:00

Today, members of the chapter of Trinity Cathedral, Pittsburgh, met for their annual retreat, seeking to discern the new fields of mission to which their Lord was calling them. No great novelty, except for the fact that attendees included elected representatives of the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh (Southern Cone) and the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh of the Episcopal Church of the United States of America and – seated next to one another – Bishop Robert Duncan of the Province of the Southern Cone and Assisting Bishop Robert Johnson of the Episcopal Church. Back in June, when we first passed our now infamous resolution pledging continued participation in both prospective Anglican entities, few would have imagined such a gathering, yet here, in the shadow of renewed legal rumblings in Pittsburgh, Trinity Cathedral continues her mission as mother to, as Bishop Duncan put it, “two children it both wants to prosper.”

For those outside Pittsburgh, our story may require elaboration. In the last decade we have lived a precarious existence, groping for identity as our congregation hemorrhaged members and maintenance costs steadily increased. Fewer and fewer people have been willing to navigate the confusing byways of Pittsburgh’s business district to join us in worship, while the pastoral needs of the local homeless population have taken their toll on the small body of parishioners with time to contribute to outreach. Maintenance-to-mission may have been the slogan of the Duncan episcopate, but it is been hard to get beyond maintenance when one has a structure of our size with which to contend. Now, as the recession slashes our endowment to the edge of fiscal viability, we are obliged to contemplate a dramatic change in vision.

In this context, it is excusable for outsiders to read our resolution as simply an effort to remain a viable congregation, while staying out of the present legal fray. Such is not out intent. Composed as we are of a blend of institutional liberals and moderates, communion conservatives and a few federal conservatives, we recognize that our resolution can be effective only with a degree of self-discipline. We are not Laodiceans. Our vision – “To Be a Missionary Cathedral Building Up a Missionary People of God” – embodies a commitment to the continued need for relationship between those recently parted by realignment. Both new ecclesiastical entities contain within them the DNA of the former Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh. Looking toward the future, we must still account for our past. The commitments to “to forgive rather than retaliate” and “to heal hurts rather than nurse grudges” are not legalistic boilerplate, but an attempt to live into the ambiguities of our recent division.

We emerged from our retreat with the belief that we have the potential to promote our vision, even if the prevailing climate would have us act otherwise. Meditating on Ephesians 2: 11-22, we came to fresh understanding of the reconciling work of Christ on the Cross. We saw once more the ability of Jesus to lessen the pain even of the hurts that have recently been inflicted and endured in this part of Pennsylvania. Again and again, we heard from representatives of the realigned and reorganized dioceses, talk of what could still be shared, of ways in which we might still be in relationship with one another.

Our first acknowledged task is to define our identity as a congregation, for we have a need to grow and be fruitful and without vision we most definitely will perish. We have to learn to suit our very limited resources to what is achievable, to use the spiritual gifts of our congregation to best advantage, and to identify those constituencies whom we are best placed to serve. All of this is, of course, the standard work of parish profiling, yet beyond those fundamentals lies a deeper and more challenging objective: to model Christ in such a fashion that non-Anglican Pittsburghers will no longer think of us as the denomination that’s always in legal battles and that the Anglican community will have cause to downplay the adversarial nature of the conflict.

For some – perhaps for many – what we are seeking to do may seem at best fruitless and at worst harmful, and yet there is no other congregation with the institutional history to attempt it. We are the mother church that John Henry Hopkins fostered and from which Alfred Arundel sought to project a vision of pastoral care to those who would never have considered becoming Episcopalians. We have fought with bishops and with each other and yet have endured though the many twists and turns of Anglicanism in Pittsburgh. In 2008, the cleaning of our exterior as part of the diocesan anniversary celebration saw Trinity Cathedral emerge from the blackened deposits that had accumulated in the course of a century of industrial development, to reveal the almost golden sheen that it enjoyed at its erection. As an icon for our soon-to-be-released diocesan history – “Called Out of Darkness Into Marvelous Light – it reflects the hopes of those who seek a deeper reconciliation than a mere equitable division of assets (not that this would necessarily be a bad thing). Ultimately, however, we seek only to live out the vision to which we believe we have been called, always aware that “Our Help is in the Name of the Lord, who Hath made Heaven and Earth.”

A Historical Response to Jim Stockton

2009-01-03T11:51:00.006-05:00

My first post of 2009 is a response to a posting by Father Jim Stockton of Church of the Resurrection in Austin, Texas on the House of Bishops and Deputies discussion list (HOBD) on the dangers of endorsing the proposed Anglican Covenant. Subscribers to HOBD are asked not to publish postings without the permission of the author, but readers can still, I hope, get a sense of what is in dispute.

Update: Father Stockton has posted his original article in the comments section.

While the issues that Father Stockton raises are, for the most part, practical and theological, and, as such, not a part of my remit, I would like to take issue with some of his historical assertions.

One of the things that I, as a historian, find a little frustrating about the progressive position are the simultaneous assertions that Anglicanism represents as much an organic as a legalistic version of catholicity – which I think is true – and that because there are few, if any, examples of formal transnational structures, this is implicit proof that no one down the ages ever desired or anticipated them. If Anglican structures have historically been informal, undocumented and organic then there will inevitably be no paper trail, but that proves little about how people have anticipated the future.

Father Stockton asserts that historically there was never an intention to create a Communion. If he means there was never a proposal to create a curial structure, then I suppose he is right, but why is it that it was the American and Canadian bishops who pressed most strongly for Lambeth 1, at least in part to address the questions arising over Bishop Colenso? He further states that the American church never sought to sustain a relationship with the Church of England. Here, I believe he is wrong. The Episcopal Church in the early national period did have to live down its reputation for residual Toryism and disloyalty to the Republic and Bishop Hobart’s approach, as Robert Mullin has demonstrated so well, was designed to emphasize American Anglicanism’s detachment from statist projects, but I have read little that suggests that the Church, at least after 1815, had any other reason to downplay its English credentials.

The evidence from Pittsburgh is rather that the Episcopal Church saw itself as midwife to new immigrants from the British Isles. Our first bishop, John Kerfoot, was instrumental in establishing the notion of letters of transfer to be presented by English immigrants to Episcopal rectors on arrival in the United States. While there certainly are statements that imply a purely advisory role for the Lambeth Conference there are equally existential statements – by bishops and others – that seek to dispel the notion that members of the Episcopal Church belong solely to an American denomination. One might just as well say that any American reserve stemmed from the fact that a largely High Church body – especially after 1873 – viewed with some disquiet efforts to propitiate English Evangelicals, including such legislative instruments as the Public Worship Regulation Act.

I have no way of knowing what Father Stockton would consider “deep and abiding affection,” yet there would seem to be a fairly constant record of clergy exchanges and a strong sense of “Britishness” within the American Church that antedated the Second World War. Clearly this did not amount to a view of the archbishop of Canterbury as even a titular pope, but I think it implied something more than just a common historic point of departure. Anglo Catholics have always seemed good at sustaining transatlantic connections, and the Broad Church had the Social Gospel to share (Charles Gore was read on both sides of the Atlantic).

When Evangelicals started reconnecting in the 1950s and 1960s – John Stott’s visits to America and Billy Graham’s English tour were both part of the same phenomenon – they were merely doing what previous generations of American Anglicans had done. Where they broke with the past was in being more pan-Anglican than their nineteenth century forbears, most of whom had preferred to think in terms of a pan-Protestant alliance extending across the denominations. That is where the real difference between then and now is to be found. Contemporary Evangelicalism may be dismissed by its critics as outside the Anglican mainstream, but it is being shaped much more within an ‘Anglican’ world view than it was 150 years ago. Again, people may not like the Anglican Church in North America, but it is a very different entity than was the Reformed Episcopal Church when it was first formed.

Father Stockton may well be right, however, in his belief that voluntary federations are now inevitable. Those now fighting for a Covenant may well be seeking to preserve a catholicity that is unsustainable. But asserting that a high view of bishops and primates can be seen only as making the former “dictatorial headmasters of an infantilized laity,” also does less than justice to bishops of the past who would certainly not have understood their role solely as that of chief executive officer of their diocese. If apostolic succession is to have any meaning, surely it implies an episcopal charism in relation to matters of doctrine? I would strongly question whether even the most avid of nineteenth century proponents of lay democracy desired to hobble the authority of bishops to pronounce on matters of theological significance.

“The Church of England,” says Father Stockton, “never had a covenant. The Episcopal Church purposely has never had a covenant.” It might be more true to say that neither ever had a confession, but to insist that Episcopalians (and members of the Church of England) never thought in covenantal terms seems much more of a stretch. It would be interesting if other dioceses would take up the question from a historical perspective so that we might gain a deeper understanding of just what it was that American Anglicans believed in times past. It is most unprofitable for either side to project onto the Church Expectant a vision derived from present-day events.

The Work Goes On, The Cause Endures: Diocese of Pittsburgh (Southern Cone) Convention, November 7, 2008

2008-11-07T20:52:00.004-05:00

With apologies to Teddy Kennedy almost thirty years ago, the second day of the special convention convened today to reelect Robert William Duncan as Bishop of Pittsburgh. "We've all been waiting so long," declared Christopher Leighton, rector of St. Paul's, Darien (Connecticut), a member of Trinity School for Ministry's first graduating class, who headed one of three visiting delegations from parishes outside Pittsburgh, and most of those present undoubtedly agreed.

Convention delegates agreed unanimously to make their selection by paper ballot. Prior to reading aloud the relevant statutes, the Chancellor quipped that it had been suggested "that we read this responsively by whole verse." Gladys Hunt Mason of St. Stephen's, McKeesport (a parish that has opted not to realign) presented the report of the nominating committee, which "unanimously and with great joy" recommended Bob Duncan for the position. There being no nominations from the floor, the Veni Creator Spiritus was sung and the ballot cast. It was announced that Bob Duncan had received 78 of 79 clerical ballots (one was invalid) and 100 of 100 lay ballots - blessed unanimity! Bishop Scriven read aloud a letter from Primate Gregory Venables commending the election as a "positive and significant step in the advance of the Gospel." Did the bishop-elect accept his election? Standing Committee President David Wilson inquired. "I have a few things to say," the bishop-elect replied.

He did indeed. After thanks to the Standing Committee for the 50 days (take note) that they had stood guard in his absence and to the diocesan staff, +Bob brought his wife Nara up on stage and commended her to our prayers. Given the Bob Duncan buttons that had made an appearance after his deposition, he suggested an updated version inscribed "He's Back!"

He spoke of the past, most especially of John Kerfoot, the first bishop of Pittsburgh who strove for reconciliation at the first post-Civil War General Convention, but also of the future. There is no time to wait to recover from recent traumas, he insisted, but rather we must get on with the mission. At the 1995 convention that elected him bishop, so many spoke of the extraordinary sense of the presence of the Holy Spirit, even when the diocese had been terribly divided. "We're not divided any more . . . we're free and without excuse not to do mission. Will you join me in the mission? Are you willing to do it?" He invited all those willing so to commit to rise. When all did, he observed quietly: "Then I consent."

There followed presentations both from the new parishes admitted in October and from some of the outside observers. The latter included Anglicans from Arkansas, Connecticut, Georgia (Christ Church, Savannah), New York, North Carolina, Ohio and Virginia as well a our "sister congregation" at Christ Church, Grove Farm. What we're doing, the Bishop went on, carries a cost, as witness the Pittsburgh priest recently expelled from Connecticut for voting in favor of realignment, but it served as a beacon for Christians throughout the world. Indeed, Archbishop Donald Wuerl of Washington (the former Catholic Bishop of Pittsburgh) had called him just before the convention to let Duncan know he would be praying for him.

Jenni Bartling, overseer of new church plants, spoke of how she had felt "postpartum blues" on behalf of her new congregations who had received only cursory attention in October. The four new congregations and three other plants over the past seven years testified that "moving forward in mission" was not empty rhetoric in Pittsburgh and the congregational leaders echoed her sentiments. From Seeds of Hope, Bloomfield a reminder that if you want families and children in your congregations you need to do child and youth ministry. From Grace Anglican, Slippery Rock, an emphasis on the need for constant prayer, which could turn a community of eight into a congregation of 150, most of them tithing and 40 percent organized in cell groups, and ten people considering ordination (five of them since the realignment vote). From Charis 247, Coraopolis, a reminder of the need to build community relationships (Practice, Pray and Partner). Finally, from Somerset Anglican Fellowship - this I really liked - a reminder that it is possible to leave everything except the people and still grow. "Getting rid of the building has turned out to be a blessing in our case," declared their spokesman and they still wish the 20 percent of the congregation who opted to remain with TEC well and continue to pray for their spiritual health and well-being.

And then the outsiders. Christopher Leighton from St. Paul's, Darien, where the renewal movement had some of its earliest beginnings, noted that his congregation was currently engaged in planting two new Anglican congregations and thanked his former diocese for its leadership. Art Ward from St. Bartholomew's, Tonawanda, New York, spoke from the perspective of a congregation who chose to leave everything behind and noted the "gracious" behavior of their reappraising bishop on the issue. This had been the year to choose, he said, and if staying was not an option, neither was litigation. Finally David Drake of Holy Trinity, Raleigh, North Carolina: "People who are wounded can still preach the Gospel . . . I had never seen people come to Christ in a church before."

Given the asides that had been dropped throughout these presentations, Bishop Duncan at one point took the stand to address the question of a new province. It was "very near" he said, and recognition might come as early as December. Certainly, it is hoped that a draft constitution will be presented at the December meeting of the Common Cause Partnership. Proceedings were closed with Geoff Chapman introducing a Sense of the House resolution that parishes and diocesan bodies prayerfully consider the Jerusalem Declaration as a standard of faith to be adopted at the next regular diocesan convention, should delegates so approve. On that note convention was adjourned with delegates admonished to sign the testimonials on Bishop Duncan's behalf required by the Province of the Southern Cone.

Episcopal Dawn, Anglican Sunset: A Scholar's Reflections on Pittsburgh's Episcopal Experience

2008-10-21T17:59:00.022-04:00

This lecture was delivered at St. Andrew's Episcopal Church in Highland Park,
Pittsburgh, on October 17, 2008. My thanks to Bruce Robison and all those who attended.

“The effectiveness of the Episcopal Church is hampered by its own peculiar faults.” So spoke the Bishop of Pittsburgh not in 1985 or 1995, but in 1955. “In some quarters it bogs down in ritualistic trivialities and dissensions over unimportant issues. In other places, it becomes deflected from its goal by what amounts to an idolatry of scholarship and biblical criticism. Or again, the energies of the Episcopal Church become drained off by the belief that the future of the faith hinges upon new educational techniques and round table discussions. Or the Church may become so broad and liberal that it agrees with everybody and stands for nothing.” [1] Such sentiments, it would appear, have a longer lineage than one might imagine from casual perusal of today’s newspaper headlines.

It is both a privilege and a pleasure to address you tonight on the subject of 250 years of Anglican and Episcopal history and witness in this comparatively remote corner of western Pennsylvania. History is being made and never more so than in the past five years as global Anglicanism has reeled from crisis to crisis and relationships between provinces, dioceses and parishes have been irrevocably altered. A mere 20,000 Christians we may be, but we enjoy a notoriety out of all proportion to our numbers not just in the United States but across the world.

I would like to begin with an expression of thanks to Bruce Robison and the Adult Programs Committee of St. Andrew's Church. I know of no better place to address some of the present ambiguities of our situation – less than two weeks from the historic vote on realignment – than in a heterogeneous parish that has chosen to remain Episcopal. Next in importance – though first in my heart – my wife Jennifer, who, in addition to being the principal breadwinner, has had to endure four years of married life in which “churchy” affairs have formed a frequent topic of conversation (or perhaps monologue would express it better).

To the newest Bishop of the Province of the Southern Cone, I am grateful both that he considered it worthwhile to commission an official history and that, having done so, he refrained from seeking to exercise editorial judgments. In the course of two years, the only criticism Bob Duncan ever offered of my work was that he would like to see more attention given to the earliest phase of Anglican mission work, a criticism to which, I suspect, even the most ardent progressive would have little objection. As a scholar, I cannot begin to express my gratitude for the contribution of the diocesan archivist. Lynne Wohleber’s commitment to archival preservation, despite the limited resources with which she has been gifted, is worthy of high praise. Finally, every pledging member of the Diocese of Pittsburgh contributed to the stipend that I received between 2005 and 2007, an addition to our household income that was gratefully received. I hope that when our history is published in its entirety by Wipf and Stock next year, all will feel that this was money well spent.

For me, this project has had both a personal and a professional aspect. I have been a member of Trinity Cathedral – which recently adopted a unique approach to the problem of governance in a post-realignment era – have served on its Chapter and have been a delegate to Diocesan Convention. Even those aware of my Communion Conservative tendencies may well be inclined to assume that the diocesan history is a puff piece intended to validate the course pursued by Robert Duncan in his years as Bishop. While I esteem Bishop Duncan and share many of the concerns that he has expressed over the years, I have had occasion to differ with him on a number of issues and have continued to entertain reservations about the wisdom of realignment even as I have come to accept its historical inevitability.

Those who read my account of this year’s convention proceedings will have noted how I prefaced it with an extract from the last chapter of J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Return of the King, in which the Elves, accompanied by Frodo, Bilbo and Gandalf, depart into the West, leaving Sam to mourn their departure on the shores of Middle Earth. The scene amply captures own feelings as I watched the 2008 convention proceed to its denouement. If you prefer a Biblical analogy, consider that passage from Deuteronomy, where Moses, foremost among the Prophets, is denied entry to the Promised Land on account of his faithlessness at Meribah, even while the Lord permits him a vision of what will be.

And Moses went up from the plains of Moab unto the mountain of Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, that is over against Jericho. And the Lord shewed him all the land of Gilead, unto Dan, And all Naphtali, and the land of Ephraim, and Manasseh, and all the land of Judah, unto the utmost sea, And the south, and the plain of the valley of Jericho, the city of palm trees, unto Zoar. And the Lord said unto him, This is the land which I sware unto Abraham, unto Isaac, and unto Jacob, saying, I will give it unto thy seed: I have caused thee to see it with thine eyes, but thou shalt not go over thither. [2]

In a touching pre-convention message, Joseph Martin, rector of Church of Our Savior in Glenshaw, wrote of how God had emancipated him from his fear of leaving the Episcopal Church, where all doubts boiled down to one essential question: “What will ministry life be like outside of the comfort, security, and status I had known all my life in the Episcopal Church? A question I had talked a good game about but never really faced seriously, and it was daunting.” [3] I have no doubt of the genuineness of his conviction and call, and yet I also do not doubt the convictions of those who find the view from the Anglican Pisgah as remote as did Moses. Since at least 2006 many diocesan leaders have preferred to stress the potential of new beginnings rather than lament what is, for them, already lost. Most of them, as Philip Wainwright, rector of St. Peter’s, Brentwood, so eloquently noted at St. Martin’s, Monroeville, have been engaged in an increasingly rearguard action for most of their adult life and perhaps welcome the opportunity finally to be free of constraint and conflict.

It is not the historian’s task to predict the future but rather to focus on what is passing. In some respects, the assertions frequently made in discussions of realignment over the past five years – that the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh has not changed its position, but stands where it has always stood – seem to me misleading. While the Episcopal Church in the past half-century moved a considerable distance from what church historian Robert Prichard has called the “Mere Christianity” consensus of the 1920s, [4] postwar Pittsburgh did not remain in ecclesiological stasis in the meantime. In a world where the definition of Anglican is increasingly contested – not least because Anglicanism no longer boasts a source of ultimate authority that commands universal respect – Pittsburgh Episcopalians have contributed their mite to redefining it. It is easy, too easy, merely to note the conflicts between the liberal minority in this diocese and their conservative counterparts, but ecclesiological conflict is not confined to simple liberal/conservative dichotomies.

If you doubt me, take Ohio River Boulevard to Sewickley, where you may stand in the lobby of St. Stephen’s Church and marvel at the throng that gathers to worship God in contemporary liturgy and praise music. Then follow the signs that point south and east to Charleroi, climb the steep Mon Valley hill and enter that shrine to working class Anglo Catholicism. Geoff Chapman and Bill Illgenfritz today, John Guest and Joseph Wittkofski forty years ago, practitioners of two traditions, both deeply rooted in the Anglican way and completely incompatible in terms of nineteenth century theology! And if we argue that both still express the essentials of the faith, then how do we account for those conservatives who today have chosen not to follow the path of realignment? Sometimes it is not the open opponent but “our companion, our guide and our own familiar friend,” [5] whose perceived betrayal hurts the most.

Renewal, at its best, begins with a consciousness of the Cross on which sinful thoughts and wills are crucified, a theology that stands in radical contrast with the liberal Protestant view famously – and critically – defined by the Neo-Orthodox theologian Richard Niebuhr that “a God without Wrath brought Man without Sin into a Kingdom without Judgment through the ministrations of a Christ without a Cross.” [6] Sinfulness remains a universal constant, as Bishop Duncan pointed out at this year’s Global Anglican Future Conference (GAFCON) in Jerusalem: “Over the last five decades,” he testified, “we have made more than our share of compromises when issues of Scriptural Truth were debated or challenged . . . Moreover, the witness of our personal lives has been scarcely better than the record of those whom we now forthrightly confront: divorce and remarriage, sexual sin, addiction, material possessions, careerism, children who wander far. Further to our shame, we have sometimes as orthodox battled one another – splintering into factions and sects, competing with one another for territory or adherents, even at times condemning one another – publicly proclaiming the Truth while privately operating for our own advantage. So it is not just the progressives who have allowed sin to masquerade as righteousness, but sometimes the orthodox as well that have disgraced, disrupted and divided the whole Anglican Communion.” [7]

For the last few years, I have been uniquely privileged as a historian, to write a work of historical context for an ecclesiastical organization undergoing the most profound transformation of its 142-year history. While I sat in a little side office and read issues of the diocesan newspaper from more than 100 years earlier, I could overhear conference calls with other Anglican Communion Network bishops (rarely the substance, unfortunately). From time to time the arch purveyor of diocesan propaganda – that is to say our esteemed director of communications – would intrude his head to inquire what tidbit of diocesan scandal from far-off days was currently preoccupying me. So I sat and recorded history, while all around history was being made. Four years ago, as my wife and I prepared to move to Pittsburgh, I knew next to nothing about the diocese (though I confess that Bob Duncan’s name was not entirely unknown to me). It has been an interesting journey.

What then of my title? Episcopal Dawn is, I hope, self-explanatory. With much of this region barely settled during the 1790s, the birth of the Episcopal Church and the emergence of an Anglican witness largely coincided. That pattern held in Pittsburgh for over 150 years: a strong Evangelical presence in the early nineteenth century gradually supplanted by a more Anglo Catholic outlook; an embrace of the Social Gospel – though hardly on the scale of some other urban dioceses – during the early twentieth century; and a period of contraction during the 1920s and 1930s.

Revival during the 1950s, while owing something to the positive demographic trends that sustained much postwar Episcopal resurgence, proved significantly different in Pittsburgh than in other parts of the Episcopal Church. The twin presences of Bishop Austin Pardue and Sam Shoemaker fostered the cultivation of a prayer-centered Anglican culture considerably more introspective and personally transforming than the more mainstream spiritual nostrums of Norman Vincent Peale. The notion of a local witness intended to convert the broader culture was thus birthed in Pittsburgh twenty years before the diocese had begun to gain its present notoriety in religious circles as a center of the parachurch movement. “It is encouraging,” remarked Bishop Pardue in 1966, “to see how many new and expanded ministries have developed within the Diocese. They are not Diocesan initiatives and for them the Diocese has no financial responsibility. . . . Yet, they are fostered by our clergy and lay people and by individual parishes and missions of zeal and vision.” [8]

The contributions of undertakings as diverse as the Pittsburgh Experiment, Trinity School for Ministry, the South American Missionary Society, Anglicans for Life and Rock the World Youth Alliance should not blind us to the realities inherent in this form of spiritual identity. What developed in Pittsburgh during the 1970s and 1980s was a profoundly different understanding of “being church” from that found in most Episcopal dioceses. Its strengths were and are undeniable. It meets the unchurched where they are and focuses on bringing them into right relationship with their Lord and Savior. It confronts secular culture, refusing to make concessions on matters of doctrine merely to conciliate the secularist. Finally, it undercuts the fatal tendency of institutional Protestantism to descend into bureaucratic obscurantism by keeping its organization simple and suiting its structures to the task at hand.

Such discipleship is of a high order and yet through it runs potential contradictions, the same that drove the Reformed Episcopalians into schism. Modern Evangelicalism operates within the context of a wider conservative American Protestantism. Sometimes the suggestion that “they’re not really Anglicans” can be understood as a coded attempt to remove conservative voices from the debate, but the present discussion of the “two integrities” on female ordination inherent in the realigning movement testifies to enduring tensions. “People have a deep need to express their faith in ways that are culturally relevant to them,” observed one Evangelical priest in 1992, “we don’t really need pipe organs and medieval dress and archaic language and music.” [9] Taken at face value, such observations reflect an obliviousness to the fact that an attachment to the “archaic” can be its own form of religious counter-culture, if it is a truly lived experience and not merely a liturgical performance.

Such pronouncements could be heard as early as the 1970s. The future Bishop of Central Florida, John Howe, then a fiery Pittsburgh-based Evangelical, caused some alarm in 1973 with his denunciations of established Episcopalianism. “Our churches,” he observed, “are ‘filled’ with baptized, confirmed, committee-serving, Sunday School-teaching, bill-paying, loyal Episcopalians who have never been reborn of the Spirit. And it usually isn’t their fault. How will they be converted unless we preach conversion? And why would we ever preach conversion if we shared [the] opinion that they don’t need it?” [10] In response, the Pittsburgh writer Emily Gardiner Neal savaged Howe as a “reformed Protestant minister, who has totally rejected Sacramental principles.” Let it be noted here that Neal was no liberal; an Anglo Catholic who had authored books on devotionalism, she was strongly to oppose the Episcopal Church’s decision to ordain women to the priesthood. [11]

It is in this context, then, that I would speak of Anglican Sunset, even as the more fervent proponents of realignment would doubtless prefer “Episcopal Sunset, Anglican Dawn.” Anglican identity is changing even as we sit here and we are party to that transformation. The global reformation is at our door, as postcolonial Anglicanism assumes the driving seat. For some, however, reformation and realignment increasingly take on the character of the view from Pisgah. There is an element of tragedy amid the promise, one which I think we would all do well to appropriate. Too often, the eagerness to be gone clouds awareness of the heritage that will be sacrificed on the altar of fidelity. It is sometimes hard to escape the feeling that the legacies of Kemper, Huntington and Brent may be unavoidable casualties of the realignment process.

What then has Anglican identity meant for Pittsburgh Episcopalians down the years and what does it mean today? We all claim the identity as our heritage, but in vastly different ways. “From its origin immediately following the American Revolution,” declared the rector of Calvary Church in February 2007, “until this date the heart and soul of this church is that it is an American church based upon democratic self-determination, American morality and not subject to foreign domination . . . . Since the 1780s, our church has been predicated upon American values and American morality. The American value system and the evolving American concept of non-discrimination should govern our future as they have our past.” [12]

“We call ourselves Anglicans,” the Bishop of Pittsburgh observed in Jerusalem in June. “Canterbury (Ecclesia Anglicana) achieved dominance in the first millennium . . . in the second millennium, the British Church (and her colonies, in turn) took the Gospel across North America, Australia, Africa, South America, Asia and to the ends of the earth . . . What is remarkable next, however, are the astoundingly British and overwhelmingly Western (Caucasian) systems that guide the thirty-eight Provinces of this worldwide Christian family as the third millennium begins. This ecclesiological framework has now become an obstacle to the story.” [13]

Here, then, is the classical division between what church historian Miranda Hassett recently called diversity globalism and accountability globalism, [14] in which proponents of the latter strive to shake off that peculiar relationship with the secular state which the Church of England bequeathed to its daughter church in the Americas in the form of the “national church idea,” a vision of Anglicanism as a communion of nationally distinct ecclesiastical bodies united in a common expression of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church. From the mausoleum that housed the earthly residue of the national church idea has arisen a confessional fellowship spanning oceans and continents. “As long as the systems were working,” to quote Bishop Duncan once again, “as long as the systems were not obstacles to the story – there was little reason to question them.” [15]

So often is the notion of the birth of a new American Anglicanism established in 1789 brought to our attention that we sometimes forgot how much the Protestant Episcopal Church (as it was then known) retained a fascination with its English roots. When one considers how much of nineteenth century American religious history must be viewed through the lens of ethnocultural identity (German Catholic, Norwegian Lutheran, Dutch Reformed), it is not too much of a stretch to speak of an English Episcopalianism, understood less in terms of an immigrant church (though Pittsburgh could report a fair number of immigrant Anglicans) than in a mindset that continued to bind the church of a former colonial dependency to the mother church. “Ask them concerning the religion of their forefathers,” declared Joseph Doddridge, one of Western Pennsylvania’s first Episcopal evangelists, in 1816. “They all answer, they were Church people. Many of these people still retain an old Prayer Book as a venerable relic of antiquity. They still have a reverence for Baptism and the Lord’s Day. The Church, they say, was once pure and good, but it is now fallen, and, they fear, will never be revived again.” [16]

In 1875, Pittsburgh’s first bishop, John Kerfoot, swore to devote his energies to succoring the “old-country church people” drawn to the region by the promise of work in the iron and coal industries. It was Kerfoot who encouraged Church of England clergy to advise immigrants bound for America that the Protestant Episcopal Church was a constituent member of the Anglican family. He later persuaded Archbishop Tait of Canterbury to institute the practice of letters commendatory, issued by English clergy for their congregants to present to their Episcopal counterparts on arrival. [17] Several years later, on a visit to Greene County, Pittsburgh’s second bishop, Cortlandt Whitehead, met an Englishman who had resided in the district for thirty years without once seeing an Episcopal priest. Visibly moved, Whitehead baptized his six adult children and confirmed them together with their mother and the family then all received Holy Communion together. [18]

Awareness of the English presence was part and parcel of Pittsburgh’s Episcopal modus operandi well into the twentieth century. In May 1937, Trinity Cathedral hosted a service of thanksgiving for the accession of King George VI, attended by the British Consul in Pittsburgh. “I think, wrote one Wilkinsburg resident who attended the service, “that we have . . . a Consul who will mean something to us the British in Pittsburgh and one who will do his utmost for the cementing of good fellowship between the peoples of America and the British Empire.” [19] Only four years later, as Pittsburghers absorbed news of the devastation inflicted on London by the Blitz, the diocesan convention endorsed a resolution “extending its deepest sympathy with the Mother Church of the Anglican Communion in its titanic struggle to preserve Christianity for the world.” [20]

Continuity with the Church of England went only so far, of course. In the mid-nineteenth century, when the high church Anglo Catholic party was struggling to hold its own in England, its American counterpart was carrying all before it. In Pittsburgh, the first two episcopal leaders of the diocese helped consolidate the ascendancy of Anglo Catholicism over a 57-year period, despite a residual Evangelical presence. “Hearty Prayer-Book teaching and modes are everywhere here acceptable,’ Bishop Kerfoot warned a high church acquaintance in 1872, “but ‘advanced’ ideas and gestures make mischief right off. Such a man as you (sic) would call a little ‘Low’ who would be loyal to the Church and to this Diocese, and who is earnest and industrious, would do well.” [21] By the 1890s Evangelical influence was waning. They constantly asserted “the evil of High Churchmanship,” reported one observer, “and solemnly affirmed their opinion that every High Churchman was nothing more or less than a Jesuit in disguise.” [22] Symbolic of their decline was the defeat of efforts to prohibit the erection of a chapel or the appointment of a chaplain (whom Evangelicals feared would be a closet Romanist) at the new St. Margaret’s Memorial Hospital in 1890, a facility made possible by a generous bequest from Episcopal layman John Shoenberger. [23]

As the Progressive Era dawned, another English influence had secured a hold on the American Anglican imagination. [24] Promoted by such mainstream Episcopal leaders as William Reed Huntington, rector of Grace Church, New York, [25] the “national church idea” found favor with such Pittsburghers as Episcopal lawyer Hill Burgwin, who argued that the Protestant Episcopal Church should adopt the name, “The National Church of the United States .” Presbyterians and the Methodists lacked a national organization, Burgwin explained; Congregationalists and Baptists lacked a national territorial organization; and the Roman Catholics were as yet a missionary church. [26] Seven years later, the rector of Christ Church, Greensburg, voiced similar sentiments, while discussing a proposal to drop the word Protestant from the Church’s title. “[Why],” he demanded, “should this comparatively small branch of the one great Anglican Communion be the only branch that holds on to an epithet which . . . gives her a sectarian or denominational name?” [27] The popularity of the national church idea revealed the lingering attachment of many American Anglicans to notions of establishment, though its proponents sought to minimize this by suggesting that the Protestant Episcopal Church would serve merely as the vehicle for the reunion of the scattered strands of American Protestantism.

In the current political climate it has become increasingly difficult accurately to determine whether the national or global vision of Anglicanism prevailed in nineteenth (and indeed early twentieth) century America. Commenting on the 1899 ruling by the Archbishops of Canterbury and York against incense and processional lights, Bishop Whitehead emphasized that the American Church was in no way bound to take note of opinions generated by Lambeth Palace and further noted that the most recent General Convention had rejected a proposal to establish a board of arbitration under the presidency of the Archbishop of Canterbury to consider questions submitted by the national churches. [28] Whitehead, however, wrote from the context of a church that had neither the means nor the desire to implement such state-sponsored measures as the Public Worship Regulation Act. Elsewhere he seemed to imply a rather different understanding of global ecclesiastical relationship. “[One] does not belong to St. Peter’s, St. John’s, St. Matthew’s parish; nor yet to the Diocese of Pittsburgh; nor indeed to the ‘P.E.C. of the U.S.A.’” declared a diocesan newspaper editorial (almost certainly composed by the Bishop) on the Pan Anglican Missionary Congress of 1908. “We are not baptized into these puny and ephemeral bodies, but into [the] great Holy Catholic Church.” [29]

Of all the bishops of Pittsburgh, only Whitehead’s successor, Alexander Mann, spoke unequivocally to a largely American idiom for Episcopal identity. “[Our] influence is out of all proportion to our numbers,” Mann observed in 1933, “and when the Episcopal Church speaks in her corporate capacity, no Christian Communion in the country commands more truly the attention of thoughtful men. We are one per cent of the population, we are thirty per cent of college and university students . . . We are too Catholic for some of our members and we are too Protestant for others. We are told that our position is illogical, but after all what is it but the position of the family, where one son is an extreme radical and one is an ultra conservative, but where all the children are held together by the bond of a common loyalty, a common love and trust. [30] Mann’s episcopate, however, largely coincided with the social and economic upheavals of the Great Depression. By the time he resigned his position in 1943 (the first Pittsburgh bishop not to die in office) circumstances had radically altered.

It has become an axiom of contemporary progressive discourse that during the 1970s and 1980s the Diocese of Pittsburgh was subject to a takeover by conservative elements not indigenous to the region. In this view, the broad and tolerant Anglicanism of Bishop Robert Appleyard (elected in 1967) gave way to the polarizing and sectarian Evangelicalism of Alden Hathaway (elected 1980) and Robert Duncan (elected 1995). For this shift much blame is also accorded Trinity School for Ministry in Ambridge, whose graduates are accused of infiltrating many mainstream parishes in southwestern Pennsylvania. Such sentiments were voiced as early as 1982 in a meeting of the diocesan Board of Examining Chaplains, according to the then secretary, David Jones. “This entire discussion,” he wrote, “opened a floodgate of words and emotions concerning Trinity Episcopal School for Ministry. A number of strong feelings were articulated by a number of Board members: ‘I have a hard time even calling that place a seminary.” “They claim to be in the stream of Anglicanism – they aren’t.” “We shouldn’t send anyone there; how did the Bishop’s original policy change? There was a good deal of self-righteous indignation filling the room.’” [31]

For many progressives, contemporary Evangelicalism stands outside any recognized canon of Anglican belief. Writing in a recent online edition of Episcopal Life, Dr. Joan Gundersen of Progressive Episcopalians of Pittsburgh described the recently formed Somerset Anglican Fellowship, a breakaway group from St. Francis-in-the-Fields Church that opposed the latter’s decision not to realign, as “evangelical Presbyterians.” [32] While I do not doubt that many in that group would find common cause with conservative Presbyterianism, it is not clear to me that this disqualifies them from Anglican identity, if only because there are so few absolute theological benchmarks.

I still recall my amusement at reading an account of the landmark 1922 ordination service at devoutly mainstream Calvary Church, at which one of the participants was Frederick Emrich, a Congregationalist minister, marking the first time a representative of the Reformed tradition had participated in an Episcopal ordination. [33] Fast forward eighty-two years to 2004 and we find Bishop Duncan authorizing a bishop of the Reformed Episcopal Church to confirm 13 candidates at St. Michael’s Church, Ligonier, a parish whose conservative rector has since confounded many by refusing to participate in realignment. [34] For good measure, I would note the comment of one Calvary parishioner in the early 1920s regarding his rector’s homilies. “The trouble with Mr. van Etten’s sermons,” he complained, “is that they are just as good for the Baptists as they are for us!” [35]

What then has been the reality of Anglican identity here in Pittsburgh in the recent past? My thesis, couched in more formal terms in a recently published Anglican and Episcopal History article, is that Pittsburgh’s shift from Episcopal mainstream to Anglican mainstream – from national to global, if you will – has been at least as much an indigenous development as the product of alien influences encroaching upon the ecclesiastical body politic. What took place between 1953 and 2003 owed as much to Bishop Austin Pardue and Samuel Moor Shoemaker of Calvary Church, as it did to Bishop Alden Hathaway and John Guest of St. Stephen’s, Sewickley.

It is a proud boast of contemporary Evangelicals that they seek to transform secular culture, not to conform to it. Such an undertaking is achieved not by ghettoization but by active engagement with the world around them, with a mobilized body of laypeople willing to share their faith with unchurched members of their community. In 1987, the senior warden of Prince of Peace mission in Hopewell testified that he had been brought into the Church as a result of the efforts of a group of laypeople who had made weekly visits to local neighborhoods. [36] The revival of St. Philip’s Church in Moon Township in the mid-1990s to become one of the largest congregations in the Diocese was also the result of a sustained program of evangelism and outreach. “These evangelism relationships are like plants,” declared the then rector. “They need a little water every day. If they don’t get watered, they’ll die.” [37]

Such activity is impressive but hardly novel. As early as 1952, Bishop Pardue had organized a diocesan commission on evangelism to send out teams of laymen “who have experienced a transformation in their lives by Christianity” to visit parishes and discuss that experience. These presentations frequently led to the establishment of prayer and Bible study groups at the parish level. [38] Another innovation of the 1950s – the parish life conference – also became popular in Pittsburgh. “What I found,” declared one participant “was the Church as a living, freedom-giving, heart-warming Reality – something I always knew existed but which I had never experienced with such intensity.” [39] Certain clergy also won their bishop’s warm approval. “[Father William] Bradbury,” Pardue noted approvingly in 1954, “has trained his people [Christ Church, North Hills] to be missionaries, but he himself sets a fabulous pace. They tell me that he is at the doorstep of every new home before the moving van arrives and that he ceaselessly and constantly rings doorbells and talks to everybody within miles of the church.” [40]

Specialist ministries to neglected groups have also been a hallmark of the Evangelical subculture. Those who have assisted at Uptown’s Shepherd’s Heart Fellowship, a congregation drawn almost exclusively from Pittsburgh’s homeless, are all too aware of the remarkable bonds that exist between the lightly-compensated clergy and lay leaders and the materially impoverished body of the congregation. Upriver, in economically straitened Ambridge, we find the socially diverse congregation of Church of the Savior, which began life in the living room of a Trinity School for Ministry seminarian. This is not your typical middle class Episcopal congregation, but a body of believers inspired by something more than a concern for liturgical propriety.

The territory may have changed since the 1950s but the search for innovative ministry has not, nor the desire to meet people where they are. Walter Righter, seeking to enter the ordination process in the early 1940s, was warned not to do so until Pardue had been installed “because [Bishop Mann] will insist you have an income of $2,400 a year or he won’t accept you.” Righter soon learned that his new bishop expected all future clergy candidates to spend a year working in a mill or factory to gain an understanding of working class culture, yet Pardue was not content simply to give his clergy a taste of working class life but sought to break through the crust of Episcopal custom to embrace the neglected communities of the Mon Valley. To take the Gospel to the lapsed Catholics of Charleroi and Donora was as potentially radical a step as any Episcopal Bishop of that day might have contemplated. [41]

The men Pardue found to answer that call proved more than equal to the task. Consider the case of Michael Budzanoski, an officer of the United Mine Workers and a member of St. Mary’s, Charleroi. “We cannot say that one side has been completely good while the other was wholly bad,” Budzanoski conceded in 1949. “The modern historian knows there have been selfish men on both sides . . . The threat of Communism may be having beneficial results among us. We’re being forced to make our Christianity into a living ideology.” [42] Equally striking is the story of Dave Griffith, the Homestead Works employee and CIO official who organized a committee to monitor workplace conditions during the 1950s that brought together representatives from the workforce, salaried employees and management, encouraged his co-workers to hold regular prayer meetings, and brought them to gatherings at Calvary Church where they mingled with the sons of privileged Episcopalians. [43] Crossing the class divide is nothing new for Pittsburgh Episcopalians.

Protesting racial injustice has been a notable entry in the progressive ledger and Pittsburgh’s progressives have reason to be proud of the achievement. “The Church is all kinds and all conditions of people,” Bishop Robert Appleyard pointed out in April 1968, “Here in our worship, here in our fellowship, we receive God’s friends to go out to the world, to go out to witness to the love, a love that we said in the Creed and in the Lord’s Prayer – ‘Our Father.’ We are then willing to comfort the family existing in its slum tenement, its ghetto, terrified by guns, by fire, by riots, by cockroaches, by utter filth . . . We can identify with those movements that have to do with good government, fair housing to all everywhere, equal rights and the highest standards of education for everyone. We can pray for those whose lives have become so bitter, so empty, so disconsolate, that they are not able to get down on their knees and pray. We can extend the fellowship of the Church into the lives and homes of those who have been rejected, those who have been forgotten, [those] who have been overlooked for years and years. [44]

Progressives had reason to be skeptical of conservatives during the 1960s when a parish like All Saints, Brighton Heights, could host a white-flight school, [45] or when Father Joseph Wittkofski of Charleroi could publicly oppose a convention resolution condemning “Membership in Segregated Organizations.” For all that Wittkofski’s views were shaped by the ethnically segregated culture of the Mon Valley, the former Roman Catholic priest’s right-wing politics were anathema to many and prompted a dramatic walkout by the Holy Cross delegation at the diocesan convention of 1969. [46]

There was, however, another side to this picture, the first steps having been taken by Walter Righter in the early 1950s, when he accepted an African American couple into his parish in Aliquippa, despite the fact that the town was organized as a series of ethnically segregated communities (known as “plans”). There were black churches in Plan Nine, a vestryman told Righter, to which his rector responded that none of them were an Episcopal church. “Well Reverend,” the vestryman answered, “you’ve got yourself a problem,” but Righter insisted on accepting Garfield Shaw and his wife and lost only one family as a result. [47] Yet such ventures were not limited to Righter. In 1964, comfortable St. Stephen’s, Sewickley, accepted Richard Martin as a domestic missionary-in-training and invited him to conduct work in Pittsburgh’s Hill district, which had lacked an Episcopal presence since Holy Cross had left the neighborhood in 1954. From Martin’s work with drug addicts developed an increasingly active Episcopal ministry to the African American community. During the summer of 1966, younger members of the parish helped coach their African American counterparts at the local YMCA, with six of the latter becoming the first African Americans to play in a junior tennis tournament in Pittsburgh. [48]

It is worth noting, I think, that concern for minority interests has persisted into recent times. In 1993, while Canon to the Ordinary, Robert Duncan was active in helping establish the diocesan commission on racism, which sought to encourage Episcopalians to undertake such tasks as mentoring, patronage of minority businesses and working to ensure equal access to housing. [49] As bishop, he continued to support the commission’s work and to draw attention to racial division in the Pittsburgh community. [50] In 1998, the commission on racism organized the first diocesan Absalom Jones Day celebration at Trinity Cathedral, which was distinguished by seminars on inequality and injustice, racism in the workplace and affirmative action in college admissions. [51] In 2000, commission member Wanda Guthrie went so far as to praise Duncan for his role in encouraging minority leadership. “I’m amazed at how far we’ve come with the help of the bishop to fill positions in the diocese,” she declared. [52]

“Scholars agree that Jesus founded a religion based on the claim of His own divinity,” Bishop Pardue wrote in 1947. “It is quite evident that you cannot accept Jesus as a great and good man while at the same time you reject Him as the Son of God. No great and good man could be merely that and make such preposterous claims.” [53] The following year, Pardue criticized what might be termed the distinctively American problem of constructing one’s faith for oneself:

Modern destructive liberalism has contributed much toward this individualistic attitude concerning things that belong to God. The debunking of faith, the Bible, the Prayer Book, the Creeds, theology, the Sacraments, and the Church, have all made us more and more disrespectful toward the eternal verities and therefore we have created inadequate little philosophical codes of transitory values which we claim to be ‘a religion of my own.’ [54]

And there’s the rub. At times, are we not all guilty of such a charge? We can look to so many efforts within this diocese to move beyond selfish individualism. To Nancy Chalfant and the Verland Foundation; to Richard Davies and the pre-school for handicapped children at St. Peter’s, Brentwood; to Sam Shoemaker and the Pittsburgh Experiment; to Becky Spanos and Anglicans for Life (formerly the National Organization of Episcopalians for Life); to David Else and the Committee on Alcohol and Drug Abuse; to Lynn Edwards and the Shepherd Wellness Center for AIDS sufferers; to Whis Hays and Rock the World Youth Alliance. Pittsburgh’s Episcopalians have set out to change the culture over the past half-century, not conform to it.

Amidst all this innovation, however, a parting of ways has become ever more apparent between confessing Anglicans (of all theological stripes) and their Episcopal counterparts. It came as no surprise to me last night to hear Joan Gundersen confess that no parish from District One had expressed interest in remaining part of the enduring Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh. The Beaver Valley, secured long ago by John Guest and his successors, is solid for realignment. It is still ironic to recall that in March 1991, it was Bishop Alden Hathaway who was expressing doubts about “the absence of ecclesiastic theology and [lack of] conformity with Anglicanism,” [55] at Orchard Hill Church, (planted by St. Stephen’s, Sewickley, in 1987) and yet nine months later Episcopal Life could feature it as an example of successful church planting. Within days, Orchard Hill’s leaders had announced their departure from the denomination, the first but by no means the last to do so. [56] We can debate the merits of their decision, yet the central fact remains that the shift in theological perspective has occurred at both ends of the spectrum. If Bishop Pardue – hardly a raving fundamentalist – was aware of it in the 1950s, it is pointless to argue a case of overreaction half a century on.

Early in this address I stated the undesirability of a historian predicting the future. Now I choose to exercise the speaker’s privilege. As we enter the twilight world of multiple standing committees and mutual disavowal of the legal standing of each side’s authorities, I confess I am close to despair. One thing I will declare: a protracted war waged for control of assets, while unlikely to destroy communities in Sewickley or Moon Township, in East Liberty and Mt Lebanon, could spell the death knell of all too many small parishes, from Kittanning to Crafton and from Monongahela to Mt Washington. Where, I find myself wondering, is the spirit that will seek first the preservation of a Christian community no matter what its affiliation? I can imagine the question at the Last Judgment: “How did you vote on realignment?” and the immediate follow-up (regardless of the answer): “Following that decision, what did you then do to proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ?” What I cannot imagine is the question: “Whom did you sue (or against what suits did you defend) in order to preserve your property?” If this is an overly simplistic way of putting it, well . . . there’s a lot of that about these days.

And I saw a great white throne, and him that sat on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away; and there was found no place for them. And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books,according to their works. [57]

God grant that when that day comes we may all be found worthy of the task to which we have been called.

In closing, let me invoke one whose voice still speaks to us beyond the pejoratives and the pettiness of today, to the very heart of self-denying love – to Nancy Chalfant at that moment when her God and ours revealed that in her care for her handicapped daughter she was permitted to testify to the fullness of divine revelation and redemption:

I knew it must be God’s power, the power of the Holy Spirit . . . Oh, what hope I was filled with then! God’s power was real, and I was actually feeling it as it burned in my heart. I knew that he loved me and Verlinda and wanted her to be whole and well. I saw that I could be a channel through which that power could work, and I didn’t have to sit by helplessly as Verlinda grew in years but not in mentality. Jesus became real to me, no longer a shadowy figure living 2,000 years ago but a person to love and be loved now, today, a person who loved Verlinda, too, and who hurt when we hurt. [58]

If Pittsburgh’s Anglicans and Episcopalians seek a new post-realignment paradigm for relationship, they could hardly do better.

NOTES

[1] Convention Journal of the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh, May 10, 1955, 22.

[2] Deuteronomy 34: 1-4.

[3] http://www.churchworthfinding.org/Confessions.html

[4] See the discussion in Robert W. Prichard, “The Place of Doctrine in the Episcopal Church,” in Ephraim Radner and George R. Sumner, eds., Reclaiming Faith: Essays on Orthodoxy in the Episcopal Church and the Baltimore Declaration (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1993), 13-45.

[5] Psalms 55:14

[6] H. Richard Niebuhr, The Kingdom of God in America (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1937), 193.

[7] Rt. Revd. Robert Duncan, “Anglicanism Come of Age: A Post-Colonial and Global Communion for the 21st Century,” The Global Anglican Future Conference, June 18, 2008, 2, accessed on July 9, 2008 at http://www.acn-us.org/etc/2008/anglicanism-come-of-age.pdf

[8]Convention Journal, 24 May 1966, 38.

[9] Trinity, June 1992.

[10] Church and Community: Christian Social Relations Bulletin, October 1973, RG4A/2.3:1, Box 6DC, Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh (hereafter EDP).

[11] Church and Community: Christian Social Relations Bulletin, November, 1973, RG4A/2.3:1, Box 6DC, EDP.

[12] Revd. Dr. Harold Lewis and Florence Atwood to Rt. Revd. Katharine Jefferts Schori, February 28, 2007, accessed July 9, 2008 at http://titusonenine.classicalanglican.net/?p=18365

[13] Duncan, “Anglicanism Come of Age,” 4.

[14] See Miranda K. Hassett, Anglican Communion in Crisis: How Episcopal Dissidents and Their African Allies are Reshaping Anglicanism. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007).

[15] Duncan, “Anglicanism Come of Age,” 4.

[16] Revd. Joseph Doddridge to Bp. John H. Hobart, December 1816, in Revd. Joseph Doddridge, Memoirs, Letter and Papers: Establishment of the Church in Western Pennsylvania (n.d.).

[17] Convention Journal, June 9-10, 1875, 51.

[18] Convention Journal, June 8-9, 1887, 68-69.

[19] O. Smalley to Rt. Revd. Alexander Mann, June 7, 1937, Nancy K. Pushee to Rt. Revd. Alexander Mann, May 16, 1937, RG2/3.1, Box 6BP, EDP.

[20] Convention Journal, January 28-29, 1941, 14.

[21] Rt. Revd. Dr. John Kerfoot to Revd. Dr. Dix, November 1872, quoted in Hall Harrison, Life of the Right Reverend John Barrett Kerfoot, First Bishop of Pittsburgh Vol. 2 (New York: James Pott and Co., 1886), 493-494.

[22] Revd. George Rogers, “Recollections of the Church in Pittsburgh Thirty Years Ago,” 15, June 15, 1915, RG5/1.1, Box 1DP, EDP.

[23] Convention Journal, June 11-12, 1890, 30, 38-42, 45-46; Rogers, “Recollections of the Church in Pittsburgh,” 8-9.

[24] See Brooke Foss Wescott, Social Aspects of Christianity. (New York: Macmillan and Co., 1887).

[25] William R. Huntington, The Church-Idea: An Essay Toward Unity. (New York: E.P. Dutton and Company, 1870).

[26] Hill Burgwin to Editor of Church Standard, April 16, 1898, RG2/2.2, Box 3BP, EDP.

[27] Church News, April 1903.

[28] Church News, October 1899.

[29] Church News, March 1908.

[30] Rt. Revd. Alexander Mann, “Sermon Preached at the Consecration of TrinityChurch, Geneva, NY,” Memorial Day, 1933, RG2/3.1, Box 6BP, EDP.

[31] Board of Examining Chaplains Minutes, March 3, 1982, RG4A/2.1:2, Box 2DC, EDP.

[32] Episcopal Life, October 5, 2008, at http://www.episcopalchurch.org/81847_ENG_HTM.htm

[33] Church News, January 1923.

[34] Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, May 11, 2004; PEPtalk, May-June 2004.

[35] E. J. Edsall, Three Generations: A History of Calvary Church, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, 1855-1942. (Unpublished manuscript, 1942), 142.

[36] Diocesan Council – District X Minutes, September 21, 1987, RG4A/2.1:1, Box 1DC, EDP.

[37] Trinity, November 1996.

[38] Convention Journal, May 11, 1954, 41.

[39] Church News, May 1957.

[40] Church News, May 1954.

[41] Walter Righter interviewed by Jeremy Bonner, July 18, 2006, Tape A.

[42] Church News, May 1949.

[43] Helen S. Shoemaker, I Stand by the Door: The Life of Sam Shoemaker. (New York: Harper and Row, 1967), 130-32.

[44] Church and Community: Christian Social Relations Bulletin, May 1968, RG4A/2.3:1, Box 6DC, EDP.

[45] Church and Community: Christian Social Relations Bulletin, August 1967, RG4A/2.3:1, Box 6DC, EDP.

[46] Convention Journal, May 13, 1969, 16, 34; Church News, June 1969.

[47] Righter interview, July 18, 2006, Tape A.

[48] Church News, June 1965; Christian Social Relations Bulletin, November 1966, RG4A/2.3:1, Box 6DC, EDP.

[49] Trinity, December 1993/January 1994.

[50] Trinity, December 1996/January 1997.

[51] Trinity, March 1998.

[52] Trinity, October 2000.

[53] Church News, December 1947.

[54] Church News, January 1948.

[55] Standing Committee Minutes, March 18, 1991, RG4A/1.8, Box 10DRB, EDP.

[56] Standing Committee Minutes, December 15-16, 1991, RG4A/1.8, Box 10DRB, EDP; Trinity, February 1992.

[57] Revelation 20:11-12

[58] D. Chalfant, Child of Grace: A Mother’s Life Changed by a Daughter’s Special Needs. (Wheaton, IL: Harold Shaw Publishers, 1988), 30.

Notable and Quotable

2008-10-24T14:16:00.001-04:00

There will come a time, God willing, when we can look back on these years with some measure of detachment and perspective, and consider ourselves wiser and maybe even holier for having lived through them. May that day be hastened.

Fr. Dan Martins

http://cariocaconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/10/naming-names-as-sadness-continues.html

To the Grey Havens: Diocese of Pittsburgh Convention, October 4, 2008

2008-10-04T16:15:00.009-04:00

Then Elrond and Galadriel rode on; for the Third Age was over, and the Days of the Rings were past, and an end was come of the story and song of those times . . . And when they had passed from the Shire, going about the south skirts of the White Downs, they came to the Far Downs, and to the Towers, and looked on the distant Sea; and so they rode down at last to Mithlond, to the Grey Havens in the long firth of Lune. As they came to the gates Cirdan the Shipwright came forth to greet them. Very tall he was, and his beard was long, and he was grey and old, save that his eyes were keen as stars; and he looked at them and bowed, and said: ‘All is now ready.’ Then Cirdan led them to the Havens, and there was a white ship lying, and upon the quay stood a figure robed all in white awaiting them. As he turned and came towards them Frodo saw that it was Gandalf; and on his hand he wore the Third Ring, Narya the Great, and the stone upon it was red as fire. Then those who were to go were glad, for they knew that Gandalf also would take ship with them. But Sam was now sorrowful at heart, and it seemed to him that if the parting would be bitter, more grievous still would be the long road home alone . . . and as he looked at the grey sea he saw only a shadow on the waters that was soon lost in the West. There still he stood far into the night, hearing only the sigh and murmur of the waves on the shores of Middle Earth and the sound of them sank into his heart.

And so, without great fanfare, the greater part of the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh passes to the Southern Cone, almost exactly five years after its leaders first proclaimed at St. Martin’s, Monroeville, their intention to uphold historic Christian teaching and practice, whatever the Episcopal Church might choose to do. Once again assembled in St. Martin’s, the church where George Stockhowe presided over Pittsburgh’s Episcopal charismatic renewal, deputies affirmed a decision to realign with the Province of the Southern Cone. In the clergy order the vote was 121-33 (with three abstentions and two invalid votes) and in the lay order 119-69 (with three abstentions). The vote in favor was 76.1 percent in the clergy order (compared to 81.9 percent in 2007) and 62.3 percent in the lay order (compared to 66.7 percent in 2007). There were twenty-six more clergy delegates and fourteen more lay delegates present this year.

There were moments both of drama and pure entertainment. The sight of assisting (not Assistant, as he made clear) Bishop Henry Scriven ringing a large hand bell to summon dilatory delegates to their places should live long in the memory. Likewise, Canon Missioner Mary Hays’ description of herself as a “Pittsburgh babe,” by which she intended merely to reference herself as a comparative newcomer, evoked a storm of merriment. And perhaps equally sobering, in the immediate aftermath of the vote, Father Jim Simons of St. Michael’s, Ligonier, rising to ask that his opposition be recorded in the minutes (rejected by the presiding officer as running contrary to the earlier convention decision not to hold a recorded vote) and the somewhat ponderous announcement of Dr. Harold Lewis of Calvary that, in light of the realignment vote, his delegation could no longer be part of proceedings, a statement which, I fear, did not evoke quite the sentiments from the rest of the assembly that he might have wished.

Convention convened at 8:30 AM, with Standing Committee president David Wilson in the chair. After an invocation from Canon Hays, Wilson announced that the practice in the absence of the bishop is to appoint a presbyter to preside and Jonathan Millard of Church of the Ascension, Oakland, was appointed without objection, Wilson happily handing over a copy of Roberts’ Rules of Order for Dummies. Father Millard welcomed a certain representative of the Province of the Southern Cone, permitted on the floor by virtue of a provision whereby clergy from churches in communion with the Episcopal Church may be present with voice but no vote. Thunderous applause followed.

A quorum was reported to be present. After the presiding officer ruled out of order a motion that the credentials of lay deputies pledged to realign be regarded as invalid, discussion moved to the question of the admission of four new church plants – Seeds of Hope, Bloomfield; Charis 247, Coraopolis; Grace Anglican Fellowship, Slippery Rock; and Somerset Anglican Fellowship, Somerset. Procedural debates held up proceedings for a while as St. Francis-in-the-Fields, Somerset, from which Somerset Anglican Fellowship had been carved to accommodate more fervent advocates of realignment, objected to the Diocesan Council’s proposal to give each entity two delegates (when the old parish would have been entitled to three). Father Millard ruled that St. Francis be given its full complement, based on its original parochial report. Following this, Father Charles Martin, a hoary old parliamentarian of conventions past, rose to question whether it was appropriate to admit four new congregations to membership whose first act would be to vote themselves out of the Episcopal Church. As I understood it, his point had less to do with the appropriateness or otherwise of realignment than with whether it was proper to admit them now (rather than after the realignment vote). A cynic might be tempted to ask whether these plants were admitted at this time at least in part to bolster the “aye” vote. All the new parishes were admitted.

As was the case a year ago, convention approved use of a paper ballot that would provide a record of the vote without subjecting individuals to undue pressure (as a historian I rather regret this as it would be interesting to have the record of names to compare with the listing from the 2003 convention, but there you are). There followed a short discussion of the minutes from last year’s convention, where it was asserted that the chancellor did not make public a ruling that a list of those opposing realignment permitted by Bishop Duncan would not be printed in the minutes. There being no verifiable proof (only differing memories of that day), the convention retained the original language.

Convention Eucharist was scheduled before the realignment vote (a smart move to ensure one last Communion as one church). David Wilson was preacher and once again demonstrated that David Wilson of the blogosphere and David Wilson, the pastor, are two very different creatures. Preaching on the text, “Take Courage; It is I; Don’t be Afraid,” he offered a moving retrospective on his years of service as a laymen in three parishes, as a priest in three, and on more committees than he could remember. “There is no other diocese I have desired to be a part of,” he told the delegates. In coming to Christ, he had been able to look back and see the hopeless, sinful, self-centered, self-directed individual that he had hitherto been. Yet doing what has to be done takes courage. “The safe place is always in the boat,” not trying to walk on the water. What God called realigners and reorganizers to do took courage, but He still wants us to be risk-takers. Such risk-taking should not prevent us from drawing from the strength even of those who are diametrically opposed to us. “We may be opponents today,” he added, “but can we be worthy opponents?” Ultimately, whatever the vote, there was nothing to fear because God is with us and He would see us through the present difficulty. “Can we,” he asked in words that are strangely absent from much of the discourse at present, “bless each other as we separate?”

Convention then adjourned for district meetings with the declared intent to reconvene at 11:40 AM. In the visitors gallery I saw one Bill Eaton in a clerical collar and identified by his badge as AMIA, while in the corridor I encountered John Guest, still following diocesan conventions forty years after he first arrived in Pittsburgh.

Bishop Henry was heard to cry “I’m hungry, I want my lunch!” and delegates filed back to complete the process. After a procedural amendment regarding lay membership on the Board of Trustees, we turned to the composite amendment changing Articles 1, 12 and 13 of the Constitution. Joan Gundersen moved that since this conflicted with a “higher order rule” (the Constitution of the Episcopal Church) we should not proceed, but the presiding officer accepted legal advice that this part of Roberts’ Rules did not apply to questions of disaffiliation.

There followed twenty minutes of valuable testimony. Deacon Becky Spanos’s reminder to everyone present of the Episcopal Church’s neglect of the culture of life was a welcome reminder of the burden that so many within the renewal movement have had to bear, yet the testimony of Kris Opat (of the Three Nails plant), a TESM student and protégé of Whis Hays, that he could not support realignment demonstrates how many people are torn. From All Saints, Leechburg, a cry of pain for the “undefined Christianity” of recent years, was measured against a warning from Christ Church, North Hills, that withdrawal will leave the Episcopal Church even less accountable than it is today. From Battle Brown of Seeds of Hope the word that “Today is a Sad and Glorious Day,” to the pledge of Father Jay Geisler of St. Stephen’s, McKeesport, that he will not sever friendships after realignment. And my personal favorite (a fellow Brit), Father Philip Wainwright of St. Peter’s, Brentwood, affirming that many of the national church leadership are among the lost but that we are sent to call the lost to repentance. Many in Pittsburgh’s diocesan leadership have tried time and again to get them to see, Father Wainwright admitted, and he blames no one who feels they can do no more, but if anyone was in any doubt then perhaps God was still calling them to stay and fight. A motion to continue debate was defeated; clearly most delegates had had enough.

At 12:15 PM balloting began. While waiting for the result, delegates approved a provisional budget and parochial assessments, being warned that various parishes (on both sides) had indicated that they would cease to pay assessments starting tomorrow, depending upon the outcome of the vote. Responsibility for adjusting the budget was handed to Diocesan Council with instructions to report back to delegates in writing in six months time. Bishop Henry (soon to depart for England for a job with SAMS) reported on his experiences of the ongoing life of the diocese. Parishes, he said are getting on with mission. At a recent visitation to St, Philip’s, Moon Township, he confirmed 54 teenagers and young adults! We are still in relationship with one another, despite everything. Canon Hays praised the way that everything had been done in the past few years with “grace and generosity,” and expressed her anticipation for the future. She noted her particular gratitude to her mentor, the newest bishop of the Southern Cone.

At 12:58 PM, the result was announced, followed in succession by Father Simons’ objection and the departure of the Calvary delegation. As voting got under way on the clauses acceding to the Southern Cone, a message was read aloud from Archbishop Gregory Venables welcoming the Diocese of Pittsburgh to their new province. Following adjournment, delegates were asked to wait while the Standing Committee held a hurried conference. When they emerged at 1:16 PM, it was to announce that a special convention on November 7-8 will elect a “new” bishop. In the interim, Archbishop Venables has appointed Robert Duncan as episcopal commissary for the Diocese of Pittsburgh. To rapturous applause our new commissary took the lectern to declare: “It’s my joy to once again give episcopal leadership.”

And so here we are, whether like Frodo to sail into the west or like Sam to stand upon the shore and listen to the sigh and murmur of the waves. And truly an end has come to the story and song of these times.

Across the Aisle meets at Trinity Cathedral

2008-10-17T00:47:00.005-04:00

This evening I attended an Across the Aisle meeting hosted by our parish and came away with a more positive impression than I anticipated.

First, the tone was civil. Jim Simons opened proceedings with an expression of hope that all present could agree on a common understanding of Jesus Christ and his salvific work and noted that the national church had expressed a desire for reorganization in as autonomous a fashion as possible. He outlined the manner in which he was informed of his removal from the original Standing Committee (by phone and without opportunity to discuss the matter with his former colleagues) and cited Title 1, Canon 1.2.4 (a) as the authority for the Presiding Bishop to recognize the new Standing Committee. He noted that the search for an acting bishop is under way and that a sitting bishop has been invited to assist the search committee in the weeks ahead. He also noted that there had been many messages of support and that he was receiving upwards of 100 e-mails every day.

Lou Hays from St. Paul's, Mt Lebanon, discussed parochial issues, being careful to stress that 'only individuals can leave the Episcopal Church.' He noted that parishes need do nothing to remain in the Episcopal Church, but that a vestry could confirm that it was remaining by resolution and by sending their assessment to the Episcopal Diocese (the Southern Cone Diocese was, throughout these proceedings, referred to as "the Oliver Building"). Those parishes still in discernment he urged to take time over their decision. Small dissenting groups might form house churches; larger groups should aim to reorganize; if the vestry seeks to realign but the congregation is generally opposed (is there any such situation in Pittsburgh?) then people should stay and "fight for your parish and your rights." If a parish was on the episcopal visitation schedule and the bishop turned up unannounced (Bishop Henry sitting next to me raised his eyebrows at that) one should invite him to worship but not allow him to preside, though if he did it "wouldn't be a fatal indicator" of realignment.

I asked Jim Simons where the Standing Committee saw the relationship between the realigning and the remaining some months down the road. He was noncommittal, but praised the Cathedral resolution as a model that might serve as a way forward and I believe he was being genuine when he said it.

Someone from St. Alban's, Murrysville, asked if a remnant from a realigned parish would be allowed to send delegates to the Episcopal convention, to which the answer was yes. A question about parochial endowment monies held by the Southern Cone Diocese led Jim to remark that parishes were free to ask for such monies to be returned to them and that he didn't anticipate that such requests would be ignored. "That doesn't sound like the character of folks there," he added.

Jim went on to note: "Your pastoral needs and your spiritual needs take precedence over every other issue;" and introduced Scott Quinn as the priest responsible for assisting parishes trying to rebuild their devotional life.

Joan Gundersen reported on the special convention planned for December 13. All parishes are to be asked if they're sending delegates and the main business of the day will be electing new officers (letters are to be sent to members of diocesan bodies other than the Standing Committee asking them where they stand on realignment). There will also be district elections (interestingly, no District One parish has expressed interest in remaining with the Episcopal Diocese - John Guest won the battle for the hearts and minds of the Beaver Valley years ago). It is possible that there will be an ordination at the closing Eucharist.

One attendee expressed frustration that the mailing list for the Trinity newsletter had been denied to the Episcopal Diocese (that was a bad decision on the Southern Cone's part, say I). Another person asked why they couldn't share properties with the other side. "Do the Southern Cone hate us so much," she asked, "that they don't want to share?" To me, this is a glimmer of hope that there are those on both sides looking for a way forward and I suspect there are many parishes that would welcome that option. Jim Simons agreed that that might well be the way to resolve some of the hurt down the road.

One final piece of interesting news. The Presiding Bishop will be at Calvary Church on All Saints Sunday!

Thomas Elton Brown reflects on The Road to Renewal

2008-09-29T19:59:00.005-04:00

Dr. Brown wrote the pioneering study Bible Belt Catholicism: A History of the Roman Catholic Church in Oklahoma, 1905-1945. He was kind enough to permit me to share his personal impressions of my biography of Victor Reed.

I was raised a Catholic in Oklahoma during Victor Reed’s episcopacy. My family was a member of Christ the King parish in Oklahoma City while the then Monsignor Buswell was pastor and the then Father James Halpine was the assistant pastor. Long before Mother Denise was removed from her position as the head of the convent in Tulsa, she taught me second grade at Christ the King elementary school. And I graduated from McGuinness High School in 1964. So much of your monograph was a narrative of my youth. Since I attended McGuinness from 1960 to 1964, you can figure out the events I remembered and the participants I personally knew. It was a first for me as a trained historian to read a scholarly study that both was a narrative in which I would be a primary source and was an analysis about which I had produced a secondary source. I was somewhat schizophrentic in my reading. I would be checking footnotes to identify sources and mulling over the conclusions of each chapter in light of the narrative. Only then I would swing to my personal recollections – “Oh yes, I remember that.” Or “Wow, I didn’t know that.” Or “Oh no, that’s not how it happened” [Or at least, “That’s not how I remember it.”]

In sum, then, I just wanted to let you know that I thoroughly enjoyed reading it – both as an historian of the subject and as a reader with a personal involvement. As I initially wrote, I found it to be well researched and well written – both in a flowing writing style and a readily understandable structure. I thought you did an admirable job of placing Oklahoma within the broader context of the changes occurring simultaneously in other parts of the country. Some reviewers will often conclude a laudatory review by stating the monograph is a model for future studies or breaks new historiographical ground. Being so close personally to the topic and being so far away from active historical scholarship, I am not in position to make such a statement. But I can confidently state that it is as outstanding biography that captured a personality that truly wrestled with a range of issues as he struggled to do the right thing.

Tending the Sheep: Pittsburgh’s Episcopal Bishops

2008-06-10T21:28:00.005-04:00

This is the second of three articles that will appear in TRINITY, the diocesan publication of the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh. They represent an overview of a manuscript history, which will be published by Wipf and Stock in 2009.

Part I http://catholicandreformed.blogspot.com/2008/05/out-of-this-furnace-episcopal.html

“We had a very weary ride over, or rather through, very bad roads to Waynesburg,” wrote John Kerfoot (1865-1881), “where at long intervals some ministers of ours held services years ago. We held service and I preached in the Court House, where we had a large and reverent congregation. We were guests of a family once ours, in which . . . the Prayer Book, and the memories of the early Church home, hallowed and taught by it, still kept their hold. Time has been sadly lost in that south-western part of the Diocese.” The office of bishop of Pittsburgh has never been a sinecure. The primitive transport networks of the nineteenth century imposed a particular physical strain and prior to the division of the Diocese of Pennsylvania in 1865 the western portion of the state received few episcopal visitations. Bishops can, however, be equally vulnerable to the distractions of external commitments. “It is painfully apparent to me,” Alden Hathaway (1980-1995) ruefully admitted in 1988, “that over the past few years I have lost control of my calendar and my appointments. It is driven by the needs and desires for my time of a great variety of good and worthy projects, but the result is that they control me rather than I having any intentional order and design to the stewardship of my time.”

Six of Pittsburgh’s seven bishops came to the office as outsiders, a pattern that owed much to a lay preference for a bishop without ties to local clergy. “Only two men in the Diocese, I was told,” Cortlandt Whitehead (1882-1922) sardonically commented years after his election, “had ever seen me – one a clergyman and one a layman – neither of whom voted for me – men of sense and fine discernment.” Perhaps the most brutal election – requiring no less than sixteen ballots – was that of 1922, which finally chose Alexander Mann (1923-1943), rector of Trinity Church, Boston. In 1980 another stormy convention witnessed a closed session in which Dean John Rodgers of Trinity Episcopal School for Ministry (who had been nominated from the floor) was interrogated by convention delegates angry that they lacked adequate background information. Thankfully the convention then took only five ballots to elect Alden Hathaway, a decision that would mark the beginning of a singular change in outlook for the Diocese of Pittsburgh. Fifteen years later, Canon Robert Duncan would be elected as Hathaway’s successor only after his initial rejection by the nominations committee and nomination from the floor with the backing of a wide cross-section of members of the diocese, many of whom did not share his theological convictions.

In the course of 250 years, Pittsburgh’s Episcopal bishops have represented a wide cross-section of the various schools of churchmanship, from the stately Anglo-Catholicism of John Kerfoot to the Broad Church pragmatism of Alexander Mann and the Evangelical fervor of Alden Hathaway. Not all were cradle Anglicans. While Robert Duncan (1996- ) waxes lyrical about his Anglo-Catholic upbringing (“If it hadn’t been for that parish church,” he says today, “I think I would not only have emotionally died but I would have physically died”), John Kerfoot was baptized a Presbyterian, a fact that concerned him enough to request a conditional baptism before his ordination in 1840. By contrast, Robert Appleyard (1968-1979) was an ordained Methodist minister before joining the Episcopal Church during the Second World War, distinguished by being the only English-speaker in his sixty-member Confirmation class on the island of New Guinea.

Several of Pittsburgh’s bishops have enjoyed prominent national roles. John Kerfoot , who helped broker an agreement to readmit southern Episcopalians to the General Convention a year before his election, was active in the debates that consolidated the ascendancy of the high church party within the Episcopal Church, while Austin Pardue (1944-1967) served as chairman of the national church commission on industrial work during the 1950s. Many bishops have also understood their responsibility to preach to the wider world, prompting Cortlandt Whitehead to denounce the 1892 Geary Act limiting Chinese immigration, Austin Pardue to become the first Episcopal bishop to address a national convention of the United Steel Workers, Robert Appleyard to promote Project Equality as a part of the national campaign for civil rights and Alden Hathaway to protest abortion outside the Pittsburgh offices of Planned Parenthood.

Such episcopal activism has nevertheless always been grounded in a coherent worldview, something that many postwar bishops have been obliged to emphasize. Austin Pardue, a writer of popular theological treatises during the 1950s, was one of the first to warn of the dangers of an entirely personal faith. “The debunking of faith, the Bible, the Prayer Book, the Creeds, theology, the Sacraments, and the Church,” he wrote in 1948, “have all made us more and more disrespectful toward the eternal verities and therefore we have created inadequate little philosophical codes of transitory values which we claim to be ‘a religion of my own.’” Twenty years later, Robert Appleyard would be more concerned with a theology that united discipleship and action. “We can identify with those movements that have to do with good government, fair housing to all everywhere, equal rights and the highest standards of education for everyone,’ he explained in 1968, “We can pray for those whose lives have become so bitter, so empty, so disconsolate, that they are not able to get down on their knees and pray.” By the 1980s and 1990s, however, the concern of the bishops of Pittsburgh was with the need to defend catholic tradition and biblical authority. “I have often been in the thick of conflicts within the Episcopal Church,” Robert Duncan reflected in 2002. “I make no apologies for this. Guarding the Faith is central to a bishop’s ordination vows. But others understand the meaning of the same vows and the same Faith differently.”

The shifting character of ecumenical dialogue – a central concern of many church leaders, tells its own tale. Episcopalians need to understand “what the true Catholic position is,” Bishop Whitehead warned in 1897, “as opposed to Romanism and Papalism, and understanding also what true Protestantism is, against what we protest and for what reasons.” Over thirty years later, his successor was more optimistic. “[Our] influence is out of all proportion to our numbers,” Alexander Mann insisted in 1933, “and when the Episcopal Church speaks in her corporate capacity, no Christian Communion in the country commands more truly the attention of thoughtful men . . . We are told that our position is illogical, but after all what is it but the position of the family, where one son is an extreme radical and one is an ultra conservative, but where all the children are held together by the bond of a common loyalty, a common love and trust.”

The postwar world would witness further development of ecumenical principles. Austin Pardue promoted connections with the Orthodox and Polish National Catholic Churches and in 1963 issued a pastoral letter responding to Pope John XXIII’s invitation to worldwide unity that was invoked by no less a figure than the Catholic ecumenist Cardinal Augustin Bea. Robert Appleyard led his diocese into Christian Associates, an ecumenical grouping formed in the 1960s to bring together many of southwestern Pennsylvania’s Christians, while Alden Hathaway established a deeper relationship with the Roman Catholic Diocese of Pittsburgh. In 1988, Hathaway and Catholic Bishop Donald Wuerl pioneered the Christian Leaders Fellowship. The following year Hathaway signed a concordat with the Southwestern Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. “By rooting [our discussions] in the context of the local working experience,” Hathaway explained, “the understanding and respect of the church’s beliefs would be increased and thereby the appreciation for the theological strengths of the various communions.”

Ultimately, however, it is as bishops in the Anglican Communion that Pittsburgh’s leaders have been judged and will continue to be judged. “These rapidly growing and multiplying Anglican Churches of ours, are too much one to live and work apart comfortably;” declared John Kerfoot in 1879, “and are too strong and spreading to work apart safely; and too brave and independent to fear each other in a blessed co-partnership under Christ, in their holy task of winning souls and building up the kingdom . . . [The Lambeth Conferences] keep the one Faith written out brightly in the old lines of catholic Truth; these old lines traced afresh in living colors, which the truthful and obedient shall hereafter see with thankful memories of our counsels, when we shall have gone where the Truth and its sunlight shall never grow dim.” Almost a century later, Austin Pardue predicted that the Anglican Congress of 1963 might be the beginning of a process by which the Anglican Communion might “begin to act as one Church and not as 18 separate and individual churches.” Today, as the world waits for the outcome of Lambeth 2008, it may be expedient to remember the purpose for which the episcopate was consecrated and to pray that the price of leadership for all affected may not be too severe.

Out of This Furnace: The Episcopal Experience in Western Pennsylvania

2008-05-07T07:00:00.006-04:00

This is the first of three articles that will appear in TRINITY, the diocesan publication of the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh. They represent an overview of a manuscript history, which will be published by Wipf and Stock in 2009.

“At the noise of the trumpets he saith, Aha!” declares the Psalmist, “and he smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the shouting.” From the 1758 expedition of General Forbes (an observant member of the Church of England) that won western Pennsylvania for the British Empire to the global storm now threatening to close the present chapter of the Anglican experience, western Pennsylvania has been witness to many of the profound changes that have reshaped this continent and the world. Now is the moment to pause and consider what it has meant to be Episcopalian and Anglican in Pittsburgh and its environs across two and a half centuries. In future articles I intend to look more closely at the nature of the shepherds called to guard the flock – our bishops – and at that much debated question of what being Anglican has meant to western Pennsylvanians down the years. As a preliminary, I propose to sketch some of the threads, both well-known and obscure, which constitute the web of the Episcopal experience since the foundation of the American Republic.

Isolation and neglect are recurrent themes of the western Pennsylvania experience, easily understood in an age when the region constituted the edge of frontier settlement, but no less applicable in the early nineteenth century when all roads led to Philadelphia or during the early 1980s when the Rust Belt recession left many Mon Valley communities fighting to survive. Thus could western Pennsylvania’s pioneer missionary, Joseph Doddridge, complain that little thought had been given to the needs of Episcopalians in scattered communities along the frontier in the 1790s and 1800s. Half a century later, in 1865, the region’s congregations were only too keen to cast off their ties to the settled east and form a new diocese stretching from Erie to Waynesburg. For them, east was east and west was better. Another forty-five years and the complaint went up that the northwest had little interest in the work of greater Pittsburgh, leading a committee to quip that a north-south division “would make practically no change in the conduct of affairs of the Diocese of Pittsburgh.” With such a ringing endorsement was the Diocese of Erie (now Northwestern Pennsylvania) birthed. Nevertheless, such isolation could also be challenged. Witness the work of Keith Ackerman (now Bishop of Quincy but then rector of St. Mary’s, Charleroi) when he brokered an agreement in 1984 to keep open a local foundry threatened with closure or the participation of Pittsburgh parishes in the New Vineyards Project of the 1980s, by which churches in areas of economic growth worked with those in depressed areas to relocate workers with appropriate skills. And who can forget that throng from “every tribe, people, language and nation” that gathered in Pittsburgh for Hope and a Future in 2005?

What then of class, that bugbear of Episcopal identity? In a Presbyterian town, the natural social ascendancy of Pittsburgh’s Episcopalians was somewhat dissipated, but not dramatically so. The identification of men like John Neville with the locally detested Federalist cause and his acceptance of the office of federal excise inspector, led to the burning of the Neville home during the 1794 Whiskey Rebellion. In the 1830s and 1840s several rising entrepreneurs identified as Episcopalians including John Harper, the first president of the Pittsburgh Clearing House, and Abraham Garrison, who launched the chilled roll industry in America. Yet what greater testimony can there be to the universality of the Christian message than the nine working class Confirmation candidates who walked twelve miles to attend the ceremony and then walked the same distance home in order to be at work the following day? Nor did demand among working class English immigrants slacken during the 1870s and 1880s, as the formation of the Layman’s Missionary League in 1889 attests. Most of those native to the Diocese will recall the missionary initiatives of the 1990s: Cursillo, the creation of “equipping ministries” like Robinson Township’s Incarnation Fellowship; the “6 in 96” program; and the implementation of “total ministry” at Aliquippa and Donora. A century earlier, however, the evangelists of the Layman’s Missionary League were out serving the English and Welsh miners who had no opportunity to come to the city for worship. The campaign against pew rents was but another marker on the road to social equality within the Body of Christ.

And what of healing, of care for the last, the lost and the least? Today we celebrate the self-denying work of Seeds of Hope and Shepherd’s Heart, missionaries to those “poor in things but rich in soul,” to invert the words of Harry Emerson Fosdick’s famous hymn. The depression of the 1980s is not so long past that we can forget the food cooperative established by St. Matthew’s, Homestead, a forerunner of many parish hunger ministries in the Diocese, yet these in turn were preceded by congregational initiatives during the 1930s to hire unemployed members to refurbish their facilities. “The Christian citizen’s attitude toward various schemes of relief that are proposed,” Bishop Alexander Mann warned at the time, “must be determined, not by the politician’s concern for votes, nor by the selfish fear of increased taxes, but by the unforgettable words of Jesus Christ – ‘I was hungry and ye gave me meat, I was naked and ye clothed me.’ ” Yet healing has a still more ancient lineage. Take the case of Alfred Arundel, who sought to make wealthy Trinity Church a haven for the residents of nearby tenements. “I went into this downtown district of our parish to fill the empty pews,” Arundel declared in his farewell sermon of 1911, “among underpaid and underfed laborers, in the slums and the tenderloin, I saw the results of extortionate capitalism – the undue enrichment of the few and the underserved poverty of the many.” There was another side to those wealthy capitalists whom Arundel was fond of flaying, however. Trinity’s John Shoenberger left most of his fortune to the erection of a public hospital – St. Mary’s Memorial – which remains part of the fabric of Pittsburgh’s public health system.

What, finally, of Pittsburgh’s Episcopalians in the public sphere? Consider the cases of William Baum and George Whitten Jackson, Evangelical Episcopalians and abolitionists, who helped found the Republican Party in Pittsburgh. Or George Hodges of Calvary who was instrumental in the establishment of Pittsburgh’s first settlement house – Kingsley House – and whose lay protégés, Henry D. W. English and George Guthrie, championed civic reform and sponsored the Pittsburgh Survey, one of the most extensive studies of social problems of the early twentieth century. How can one read Sam Shoemaker’s Pittsburgh Experiment as anything less than a call for Christians to integrate their spiritual and material lives? The earliest stirrings of civil rights activism can be seen in Walter Righter’s decision to admit an African American couple to All Saints Church in segregated Aliquippa and in the 1964 initiative of St. Stephen’s, Sewickley to sponsor a mission to the Hill District. For all those who struggled with such issues, the words of Nancy Chalfant, reflecting on the sorrow and the joy of raising a handicapped daughter, ring true: “I saw that I could be a channel through which that power could work, and I didn’t have to sit by helplessly as [my daughter] grew in years but not in mentality. Jesus became real to me, no longer a shadowy figure living 2,000 years ago but a person to love and be loved now, today, a person who loved [my daughter], too, and who hurt when we hurt.”

Today it seems as if we stand at a moment of superlative crisis, yet it was ever thus. “Had we imitated at an early period the example of other societies;” lamented western Pennsylvania’s pioneer missionary, Joseph Doddridge, to Bishop John Hobart in 1816, “employed the same means for collecting our people into societies, and building churches, and with the same zeal, we should have had by this time, four or five Bishops, surrounded by a numerous and respectable body of Clergy, instead of having our very names connected with a fallen Church.” Almost seventy years later, as Bishop Cortlandt Whitehead prepared to take up the reins he was faced with equally gloomy forecasts. “A spirit of Congregationalism pervades the whole diocese,” declared one correspondent. “There is not much going on of any sort; the diocese, the clergy and laity alike, are dead spiritually and this seems to be generally admitted.” The frontier is different – no longer geographical but ontological – yet the challenge and the promise remain the same. That frontier, Bishop Duncan declared in 2000, “is post-modern America: where political candidates no longer explain themselves by identification with a party heritage or tradition, where truth is relative and subjective and experiential, where conflicts are settled by guns and arguments by excommunication (whether of distance or divorce), where plenty and pain abound, and where everyone secretly yearns for some relationship or meaning that might hold beyond tomorrow.”

The Duncan Deposition

2008-09-18T20:26:00.005-04:00

Teaching has kept me from posting over the past month yet it would be remiss to pass over this day without noting the news from Salt Lake City. It would seem that the House of Bishops has now taken its stand by not waiting for the diocesan vote on realignment. Looking back on +Bob Duncan's period in office (13 years and counting), it's interesting to reflect how the persona of a secessionist has been projected on the Bishop of Pittsburgh by his critics back before his consecration. The historical record (of recorded statements at least) does not reflect that. While it's always easy to think how things might have been managed "better" had "we" had the handling of them, it's hard to see a way it could have been avoided. It was always too little and too late. As J. Gresham Machen concluded almost a century ago, Liberal Christianity and its Traditional (Conservative) rival will ultimately come to a parting of the ways. It may be amicable or bloody but in the end it will come. What is important is how one handles the fragments.

For the orthodox (especially the ardent proponents of realignment) this is but an incident on the road to a brighter future; it merely confirms their view of the majority of members of the House of Bishops. The damage done to institutional Anglicanism in America, I suspect, is mortal. According to David Virtue, dissenters at the meeting included the bishops of East Tennessee, Easton, Milwaukee, Montana, New Jersey, Northwest Texas,Oklahoma, Rhode Island and Virginia, none of them known for their conservatism. Perhaps they suspect the reckoning that must follow.

And so the legacy of the Episcopal Church passes into history. May the new future be all that its proponents believe it to be. I would that I had their confidence and yet at present I feel nothing so much as a sense of a fading vision. What awaits us beyond October 4 for me still has most uncertain contours.

For the Virtue report, see: http://www.virtueonline.org/portal/modules/news/article.php?storyid=9024

And here's a downloadable spreadsheet indicating how the bishops voted, courtesy of TitusOneNine: http://kendallharmon.net/t19/media/Duncan_Deposition_Vote.xls

A Hymn For Lambeth 2008?

2008-07-15T09:18:00.004-04:00

If Samuel Stone was good enough for 1867, he's good enough 140 years later. And let's be clear about Verse Three. Every part of the Church - the orthodox included - have issues to address. Triumphing in our own strength could be as deadly as succumbing to heresy.

The Church’s one foundation
Is Jesus Christ her Lord,
She is His new creation
By water and the Word.
From heaven He came and sought her
To be His holy bride;
With His own blood
He bought her
And for her life He died.

She is from every nation,
Yet one o’er all the earth;
Her charter of salvation,
One Lord, one faith, one birth;
One holy Name she blesses,
Partakes one holy food,
And to one hope she presses,
With every grace endued.

The Church shall never perish!
Her dear Lord to defend,
To guide, sustain, and cherish,
Is with her to the end:
Though there be those who hate her,
And false sons in her pale,
Against both foe or traitor
She ever shall prevail.

Though with a scornful wonder
Men see her sore oppressed,
By schisms rent asunder,
By heresies distressed:
Yet saints their watch are keeping,
Their cry goes up, “How long?”
And soon the night of weeping
Shall be the morn of song!

’Mid toil and tribulation,
And tumult of her war,
She waits the consummation
Of peace forevermore;
Till, with the vision glorious,
Her longing eyes are blest,
And the great Church victorious
Shall be the Church at rest.

Yet she on earth hath union
With God the Three in One,
And mystic sweet communion
With those whose rest is won,
With all her sons and daughters
Who, by the Master’s hand
Led through the deathly waters,
Repose in Eden land.

O happy ones and holy!
Lord, give us grace that we
Like them, the meek and lowly,
On high may dwell with Thee:
There, past the border mountains,
Where in sweet vales the Bride
With Thee by living fountains
Forever shall abide!

Samuel J. Stone (1839-1900)