Thought Starter

To be furious in religion is to be furiously irreligious.
- William Penn

What Goes Around, the Sequel

In a July 16th entry, "What Goes Around," I did my best to fathom the Anglican Communion's dilemma around human sexuality. At the Lambeth Conference, the decennial meeting of the world's Anglican bishops, the subject was gummed to death, without much success. The Conference has since adjourned.

Under the theory that it is a good thing to balance a "rant" with some good common sense, I include Giles Frazer's reflections on the Lambeth Conference. Giles provided sanctuary to Bishop Gene Robinson who was the sole bishop to be "locked out" of the meeting. He says what I wish I might have said in a saner moment. I have Tom Lippart to thank. It was he who forwarded Giles' articles to me. I hope they will illumine the events of the Lambeth Conference, now history.

Here's to you, Mr Robinson

The irony missed by Christian homophobes is that the gay US bishop is sustained by a faith you could call fundamentalist

The emails have been coming in all day. My favourite begins: "Dear sodomite supporter, you are nothing but a dirty sodomite-loving ugly stain of a man who is a disgrace to humanity." It ends "Burn in hell, Mr K." Well, thank you for that, Mr K. I have had a fair number of letters and emails from people who think like you. One suggested that I ought to be executed at Tyburn. Another graphically described the details of fisting.

My crime had been to offer the Bishop of New Hampshire a pulpit to preach the word of God. I usually have the emotional hide of a rhino, but even I was upset by the unpleasantness of the reaction, hiding my hurt in a few too many vodkas at lunchtime. How on earth does Gene Robinson cope with the disgusting abuse to which he is subjected most days – the protester who interrupted his sermon in my church on Sunday being a pretty mild example? Day after day, buckets of spiritual shit are thrown at him, sometimes by fellow bishops, and he just keeps going.

Spending some time with him over the last few days, I have discovered how he does it. He is the real deal. He is a believer. Responding to attacks that he had a "homosexual agenda", he insisted: "Here and now, in St Mary's Church, Putney, I want to reveal to you the homosexual agenda. The homosexual agenda is: Jesus." He went on to preach a fiery, almost revivalist, sermon, calling on Anglicans to take Jesus into their heart and to allow Him to cast out their fear.

What makes this person so interesting is that he has lost any sense that he is able to support himself spiritually through his own effort alone. His recognition of his "failure" to cope is precisely his strength. The theology is pure Luther: only when you recognise that you are unable to make yourself acceptable to God under your own steam can you collapse back upon God as the sole source of salvation. Later in the sermon, he described going from a meeting of the US House of Bishops to a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous, and being relieved that, at this second meeting, he could at last speak about God.

Forget what you think you know about Gene Robinson – his is Gospel Christianity of a very traditional kind. This is what Christianity looks like once it has got over its obsession with respectability.

Beware of the morality of legalism

When Christian crosses the Slough of Despond, he encounters the first temptation of John Bunyan’s spiritual classic, The Pilgrim’s Progress. Christian meets the smooth and persuasive Mr Worldly Wiseman, who directs him towards a village called Morality: “there shalt thou live by honest neighbours, in credit and in good fashion.” It seems an odd sort of temptation, and perhaps it is unsurprising that Christian leaves the straight and narrow path, and settles down in Morality.

One of the most vigorous exponents of the view that morality has little to do with Christianity is the poetic genius and eccentric theologian William Blake. According to Blake, the problem with the way most people read the Bible is that they understand it as a manual for moral uprightness.

By contrast, in the Gospels, the moral law is associated with those religious teachers who first want to judge and accuse one another. Blake notes that Satan is the great accuser. For Blake: “If morality was Christianity, Socrates was the Saviour. The Gospel is Forgiveness of Sins & has no moral precepts — these belong to Plato & Seneca & Nero.”

In a remarkable new book by Christopher Rowland and Jonathan Roberts, The Bible for Sinners (SPCK, 2008), the authors take this understanding of the gospel message, and apply it to the current crisis over homosexuality. Conservatives insist that this row is all about the Bible — and they are right.

Yet too many conservatives have become so narrow in their reading of the scriptures that they miss the remarkably creative ways in which Jesus and Paul themselves read their own scriptures. Jesus and Paul did not read the scriptures literally: you could almost say that they took hermeneutic liberties in the name of the Spirit. Thus, for example, in Galatians, Paul defends the new idea of open table fellowship, of Jews and pagans eating together, even though such a practice was evidently “unscriptural”.

The Bible for Sinners argues that the Windsor report and the idea of a Covenant seek to unite Anglicans by closing down the possibilities of biblical hermeneutics, and turning gospel faith into moral uprightness. What is at stake here is so much larger than what gay people do in bedrooms: it is all about the creation of a set of rules that will systematically make gospel faith all-but-impossible for Anglicans in the 21st century.

Blake would have seen the Windsor report and its children as a form of tyranny, in which legalistic religion (the “stony law”, as he called it) triumphs over the creative religion of the Spirit. And so do I.

The Revd Dr Giles Fraser is Team Rector of Putney, in south London.

Delicious Summer Reading

I “struck it rich” with two books I found on the summer’s reading stack: Maggie Jackson’s study, "Distracted" and a collection of Bill Moyer’s speeches titled, "Moyers on Democracy." Each book has offered such depth of scope on their subjects, that I found myself jotting notes at least as much as I was reading.

First, Maggie Jackson. The subtitle, “The Erosion of Attention and the Coming Dark Age,” has an ominous cast to it. Jackson explores the junction between human pursuits and technology. When I read snippets to Sharon, her comment was, “Sounds like a book about spirituality.” Indeed, it is. For the chapters revolve around the long standing staples of the spiritual life: attention and focus, judgment and the written word, history and awareness. Jackson’s thesis is that we are losing our ability to manage our lives, an unintended consequence of the easy access of technological communication. No Luddite, her observations serve as a cautionary tale, suggesting some resources that can help us explore the wonder of the world wide web and other innovations with minimal self harm. This book is a staple of the examined life, the most consistent demand of western philosophy. As Jackson puts it, “the way we live is eroding our capacity for deep, sustained, perceptive attention—the building block of intimacy, wisdom, and cultural progress.” For any who seek to deepen these core facets of their lives, Jackson provides ample encouragement.

Then, Bill Moyers. The book is a collection of public speeches that Moyers had made in different venues over the past twelve years. His audiences are varied including the Hamilton College Class of 2006 and the cadets at West Point; mourners at funerals for William Sloane Coffin and Barbara Jordan; and groups of public policy wonks and journalists. Moyer’s pithy grasp of the human situation is engaged with passion and humor. About his life partner he says, “A man is fortunate who marries his muse.” About Texas religion, Moyers observes, “In Texas, there are more Baptists than people.” Preachers will observe the structure of these orations, as varied and attention grabbing as any orator would want. But best of all are Moyer’s passions, his diagnosis of the present mess and his wide ranging experience creates a credible pulpit from which to comment on our democracy. I came away with renewed resolve to and confidence in the notion that each human being’s lived experience is important to the health of the whole society.

Each volume, in its own way, is a source of spiritual ignition. I think I will be rereading these two volumes in the coming years. I commend them to you.

Ancient Wisdom

"An imbalance between rich and poor is the oldest and most fatal ailment of all republics," Plutarch reminds us. The connection between moral and political action is ancient indeed. Hear the Tao:

The Master doesn't talk, (s)he acts.
When the work is done,
the people say,
"Amazing, we did it all by ourselves!"

What Goes Around

As I write the Bishops of the Anglican Communion gather for their decenniel Lambeth conference. These are the leaders of the world's 78 million Anglicans, of which the Episcopal Church is the U. S. representative. Folks have been deeply divided over the ordination of the Bishop of New Hampshire, the Rt. Rev. V. Gene Robinson, a homosexual living in a partnered relationship. The howl that has come particularly from former missionary territories in Africa, the Carribbean and to some degree, South America has been as deafening as it is deafened. I want to remind folks that these intolerant and, to some degree, mean, responses may well be the fruit of a missionary strategy of the past two centuries. Two elements of that strategy are coming back to bite us. First, we were imperialists. The church went along with the methods and attitudes of the British and American empires. This led us to a faulty strategy which told the world's poorer nations, "come and be like us." Rather than listening to these worlds, we "told" them. Worse than that, we sent our second string team into the fray. The first string got all of the prestigious cures in the first world. So, we got theologies that resemble some of the worst of our own worlds thinking. So now, we have breakaway provinces who are busy exhibiting some of the most unanglican theology who hold sway in parts of the communion.

Listening is a first step for the first world. What are these folks trying to tell us? How can we hear an ecclesiology that is steeped in hierarchy and conformity? These are the same challenging questions we face in our nation with the evangelical and fundamental community. It might be good to start listening here, even as we set our sights on hearing our own brothers and sisters from across the globe. But listening is not abandonment of our own identity. It is finding common ground from which a church can be renewed. Like the exasperated grandmother said to parents of the errant child, "That kid needs a good listening to!"

I think that rebelling bishops will tell us about the failures of our world missionary strategy. Then perhaps, we might begin to make a new start. I have in mind a chapter in Ivan Illich's book, The Church Change and Development, entitled "Letter to an American Missionary." There Illich develops a missionary stance based on affirming the good sense and integrity of native forms, that seeks to live into a different way of life without constant one upping, talking too much rather than "hearing" with the deepest ear. I am not surprised that third world Anglicans cannot listen when we say that God is doing a new thing with us. Listening is not what we taught when we communicated the faith.

Think about it.

Take My Car, Please

The traffic on Michigan Highway 78 crossing in front of the house has reduced to a slow trickle, the result of burgeoning gasoline prices. It sure makes things a lot quieter here at Cousins Island. We are just beginning to see the dramatic effects of automotive expense. Everyone is talking about it. Airline travel is getting more expensive. The sale of scooters has skyrocketed 40% in the past month. Public transportation has mushroomed. Summer vacations are taking place close to home. Second homes are visited far less often, if at all. I am sure you can add your own.

The mystique of distance is fast receding as travel costs rise. Where we are going to feel these effects even more going forward. For congregations and those who nurture the spiritual life, the news is surprisingly good. The bane of American religion has been the rise of superficial, look alike membership. Churches have come to resemble clubs of like minded folk, like our neighborhoods. As costs increase, people will be be considering costs over community makeup in their job and living arrangements. It may be that one will not drive quite so far to be surrounded with like minded individuals. Mixed communities may emerge from the present crisis as some return home.

Congregations will be challenged by the increasing diversity of their membership. We will learn to recognize and value that we are in intimate communities with those with whom we disagree. Families, too, will need a broader perspective to accommodate that offending brother in law who now lives next door! Managing “close in” relationships will encourage dialogue on a level more spiritual, deeper than mere ideology. This is as much an opportunity as it will be arduous spiritual labor.

Congregations, as well, will be challenged by the down side of gas pricing. More of us will be in need of energy subsidy, food supplement. The poor will suffer. We will be challenged to dig deeply to respond to these needs.

On the whole, rising energy costs presents opportunity to those who are concerned to maintain the fabric of our communities. Maybe people of good will will benefit by worship with those who differ with them. Difference is one sign of authentic spiritual community. Maybe gas prices will deliver us from look alikeism and conformity in faith communities.

Real life is never only difficult or easy, but a more mixed picture. “Take my car, please,” has gifts to offer.

Toxic Narcissism

There is a growing undercurrent of narcissism in the United States. It has always been with us. Foreign visitors have noted its presence since Alexis de Toqueville. In general, our exalted impression of ourselves has been a strength. Sometime in the middle of the last century, professionals made a living designing ways to harness our narcissism for commercial gain. The advertising industry was born. It has been marvelously effective, too effective. Modern Americans have internalized the subtext, “it is all here for you.” Since our attacks in Afghanistan and Iraq, our self regard has taken a spiritually toxic turn.

We attended the fourth of July parade in Richland, today. It had all of the usual tractors, antique cars, fire equipment, marching bands and combines. Richland’s parade has a running commentator, blasting his message on speakers up and down the parade route. The returning theme of the commentary was that parade members were here to “keep me safe.” This is the new narcissism. It is all about my safety. This virulent strain is not safe. For the guardians of the new narcissism are not simply friendly merchants and manufacturers, but military types, people bearing weapons.

In a way, our individualism has worked well for us. It has been the source of our vital inventiveness, among other things. This new form of national narcissism promises spiritual evisceration, and worse. It bears eerie resemblance to the lethal spectacles of the Axis regimes, behind which the Holocaust lurked and against which millions fought in the last World War. The new narcissism, with its overbearing conformity of public events, in its hymnody, creeds and anthems, are creating a spiritual hollowness. "Keeping us safe," is not good for us. It may be the deepest meaning of Independence day to resist such protection.