Whew...

Violence on our Diocese's Youth Pilgrimage to the Holy Land.

Emergent pope speaks at Lambeth

Photo/Mary Frances Schjonberg
© 2008 Episcopal Life Online

Brian McClaren spoke on behalf of emerging types at the Lambeth Conference a few days back, and apparently gave a shout out to COTA in Seattle, which is cool.

For those of us in the emerging know, Brian's message was by this point predictable, but it's spiriting none the less that it appeared at Lambeth (quoted from Episcopal Life Online):

"McLaren said the emerging culture "has been orphaned by religion -- religion has stopped answering its questions, it stopped making sense, it was very willing to withdraw into its shell and have the world fall apart." He said the culture has also been orphaned by science "that promised solution but ended up giving only more deadly weapons. And it turns out that many of yesterday's solutions caused today's terrifying problems." Members of this world have also been orphaned by technology, economic systems and consumerism and by "governments that continually promised them the world and continually deliver pitifully mediocre results."

He also gave what I think is a deserved shout out to Anglicanism from the emerging perspective:

"McLaren called on the bishops and others to recognize and use Anglicanism's characteristics and diversity to make disciples in the emerging world. "Some of the best teachers explaining the Gospel of the kingdom of God are Anglicans," he said...

He said movements within the Anglican Communion, such as the Church of England's Fresh Expressions effort and the Alpha Course, are "wonderful, creative" ways of bringing Christianity into that world.

In addition, "the fact that you are a global communion means that you are forced to realize that different cultures are dealing with different struggles -- there's no one-size-fits-all solution," he said. Acknowledging that those diverse contexts are the "source of some of the struggles in the communion," McLaren said they can be a "great asset if you realize that we're in different place, different contexts [and] we have different challenges."

Anglican liturgy, he said, "makes space for spiritual seekers in a way that a lot of mean-spirited Protestant preaching doesn't." The liturgy offers "beauty, mystery, intelligence, clarity," he added."

It'll be interesting to hear how Bishops are responding to his presentation. Olympia's Bishop, Greg Rickel, was enthusiastic, as was Bishop Alan. Those were pretty predictable though: they're bloggers. I'm more interested to hear how (or if) GAFCON and Global South types respond. I've got a sort of vague sense that "traditionalists" don't generally like the emerging church, but it doesn't seem to be a big enough stream yet internationally to really get people upset in one direction or another. It also doesn't seem that there's much participation in the emerging dialogue from south of the equator, which is of course where most Anglicans live. We market ourselves as a sort of third option, and you do see some generally constructive dialogue happening in emerging circles, even around the issue of sexuality. From here out it will be intriguing to see how much attention is given to the themes of the emerging dialogue in the global Anglican conversation. I've always viewed the 'emerging conversation' as almost a euphamism for 'what the youngsters are talking about', and it would make sense that young leaders would hammer out the solutions that will lead us forward--we're the ones who are going to have to live in the world we create, after all.

My Liturgical Dance for the Presiding Bishop

I knew this would be online at some point so I might as well bite the bullet and be the first to tell you about it. If you know me and like to see me embarrassed, you'll really want to watch. My appearance comes about a third of the way through and gets better as it goes along. When you have about 20 minutes, click on this link, and watch "Story of the Land". You might as well go full screen for the whole experience.

Tracking Lambeth...

The Lambeth Conference (Official Anglican Bishops Potluck and Social) has officially kicked off in Canterbury. It's certainly a historic one. I'm using this as my tracking hub. Here's the official site. +Gene Robinson's blog should make for some great reading across the next few weeks. A dialogue on the conference is starting to gain steam at Anglimergent.

Church Unity? Who gives a crap!

More on the whole GAFCON and Lambeth deal...

There's been a little bit of interesting discussion happening over at Anglimergent on the whole GAFCON/Anglican Unity/Lambeth deal. Tim Baer made a great suggestion, that

"Maybe a post-modern way to look at the Anglican Communion would be to say, who cares what bishops are in agreement or recognize each other, because Christians and Anglicans on the grassroots level will continue to have relationships and do important MDG/poverty causes on the ground."

My general impulse is to affirm that such an idea makes a lot of sense. There's something theologically sound and appropriately snarky about the idea of grassroots Anglicans protesting their leaders' inability to maintain communion by maintaining that communion themselves. That takes a bit of the edge off of the whole GAFCON/Lambeth discussion, and probably appropriately recognizes the silliness (and increasing social irrelevance?) of church leadership--what with their fancy hats, pretentious titles, expensive world conferences, and websites with ridiculous second by second countdowns to their expensive world conferences. (Thanks for the hot tip, Mary Little.) Ultimately, as Tim suggested, what's going to happen isn't really a fracture in communion in the spiritual sense. Ecumenism has dealt with institutional divides for years, and emerging Anglican leaders are already building networks that cross institutional boundaries. That's the spirit behind Anglimergent and my mostly flaccid Facebook group, "Anglican, whether you like it or not". If there's a split, it will just produce birth another idiosyncratic group of Christians that we other Christians have to learn to love, accept and apologize for. Hell, we're all heretical schismatics anyway, except of course the Traditionalist Catholics.

I do have to wonder if that's really good enough though. I don't know. It just seems like too quick of a resignation when it comes to the traditional structure stuff. No matter how post-modern we are, ultimately our political affiliations do matter pragmatically, and those issues aside, it matters at least a little to me spiritually that the symbolic unity of the Anglican Communion--as amorphous as it is--might be be breaking along liberal/conservative lines. A big part of the appeal of Anglicanism to me is that we're supposed to be above all that. We've been on the same team since the 16th century, right? We're an icon of catholic unity, a symbol of hope in a divided world, yada yada yada...

Let's get real though. Maybe Anglicans are ultimately above all the conflict only to the degree that they don't have to confront it. Maybe we like unity with our liberal or conservative or northern or southern or black or white brothers and sisters only as long as it doesn't cause us any problems, or make us deal with any of our real issues. Nowadays, with the internet and HAM Radio and all that, we know everything important that's happening when it's happening (in bed) and it irks us. When we have to deal with it on a regular basis, it drives us crazy. So we split, head back to our geographic/political/theological enclaves, and preach to our respective choirs about the other guy's problems.

My hope is that it doesn't devolve into all of that. My expectation is that in the coming decades there will be a significant number of leaders on both sides of the theological fence and in the middle who will continue to struggle for the unity of the Anglican Communion, and that it will continue as a diverse, vital and vibrant expression of the Christian faith on all continents. People that don't want to participate don't have to, I suppose.

GAFCON

I'm genuinely sad about the seeming formal break in the Anglican Communion, though not particularly surprised at this point. There's lots of commentary here if you're interested.

For outsiders (and in response to Wes' question), here's an explanation of my understanding of some of the significance of what's happened at GAFCON:

Essentially, in the past the Archbishop of Canterbury has been an iconic leader of the Anglican Communion. He holds a "first among equals" kind of position, and doesn't have formal authority greater than any other bishop, other than that he is the one who extends invitations to the Lambeth Conference--a 10-yearly gathering of all of the bishops of the Anglican Communion which is considered a formal, again iconic, "instrument of unity" in the Anglican Communion. However, this has been an important power, as a Lambeth invitation has historically symbolized a recognition of ones' status as an Anglican bishop, and hence a recognition of your diocese's membership in the worldwide communion. There have been previous controversies when female bishops were invited to Lambeth, but this year's conference has been particularly contentious because of the controversy surrounding Gay Bishop Gene Robinson. He hasn't been invited to the first Lambeth for which he is eligible, which has generally made the liberals mad and the conservatives dissatisfied but encouraged. People in the middle are happy or disengaged, as they tend to be.

Despite the seeming concession from +++Williams, ahead of Lambeth (two weeks from now) the GAFCON conference essentially rejected this former role for the See of Canterbury to suggest that a Lambeth invitation does not one an Anglican make. That's an important post-colonial political statement, and symbolically some will read it as a power grab (though there wasn't really any formal power to be grabbed) and an assertion of the autonomy of the Global South and Conservative North (two use two not-quite-accurate designations). Pragmatically, what it says is that GAFCON Anglicans will no longer define Anglican identity according to Communion Membership, or the invitation to Lambeth, but according to a doctrinal statement:

"The doctrine of the Church is grounded in the Holy Scriptures and in such teachings of the ancient Fathers and Councils of the Church as are agreeable to the said Scriptures. In particular, such doctrine is to be found in the Thirty-nine Articles of Religion, the Book of Common Prayer and the Ordinal."

You can see that this is a significant departure from a liberal catholic ethos where Anglicanism is defined by membership in a community towards a Protestant Ethos where Anglicanism is defined according to adherence to dogma. (It's also, I think, a rejection of much of the post-modern ethos as reflected in the emerging church movement, but I'm not entirely sure on that.) A good argument can be made that conservatives are in fact a majority in the Anglican Communion, so this isn't something that can be brushed off as irrelevant. That is, Anglicans can't just dismiss GAFCON participants and allow them to depart--they have to face up to the idea that Anglicanism proper may indeed be in the process of redefinition along more conservative lines. What I can see happening here is (another) mini-protestant reformation, and the formation of two or more churches, with each claiming Apostolic Authority or some other divine mandate. As the GAFCON folks assert, they aren't leaving the Anglican Communion, they're just redefining it and asserting their will, currently within it's structures (whatever that means). In effect they might be in the early stages of creating a new "one true" Communion that doesn't recognize the valididity of certain parts of the old Communion (i.e., the North American and other predominantly liberal churches). You already hear language here which suggests that GAFCON Anglicans should be evangelizing other Anglicans, and setting up shop where (illegitimate) churches/dioceses already exist. That's been happening in the US for quite some time, under the monikers Anglican Mission in America and CANA.

It remains to be seen what this will mean pragmatically, and how many will actually side with the GAFCON folks. The Communion is a very mixed bag already, and it isn't clear how many people and dioceses GAFCON actually represents--though it is probably clear that they don't represent as many as they claim. That said, it's a significant (and growing?) group of people who are disillusioned with traditional Anglican structures. At the least it represents a significant swipe at the inclusive Anglican ethos that I've appreciated, and at the worst it's the beginning stage of a formal schism.

Back and Forth

I've not been in the blogging mood lately...

My life during the last three years has been a constant nervous mess as I've gone back and forth on discernment, and I'm as sick (and increasingly bored) of going through it as you are of reading about it.

For an update in the process though, I've realized that I'm finally at peace about whatever happens with ordination. For the last month I've been thinking that I'd rather not deal with the cost that comes along with ordination, and now I'm back around to thinking it might be worth it. In any case, what happens happens.

I've decided that I'm going to be honest regardless. Generally the priest's role has involved a lot of pious lie-telling, and I'm going to avoid that--even if it means I won't be ordained. We'll see how that plays out with the community, but if I'm going to be a priest, I'd like to at least be an honest priest.

So, from here out, to hell with trying to convince people that I measure up, and to hell with pretending I'm a Christian in a sense that I'm really not.

Part Two: An Episcopal Theology of Sex, Jr.: On Pornography!

(Being a straight, white male writing from a straight, white male perspective, this post inevitably drifts towards the not-totally-accurate stereotype that men are the viewers of pornography and women the subjects. Thanks in advance for your willingness to hear what I have to say rather than getting hung up on the limitations of my perspective (though feel free to point them out). I know they're there, but it's impossible to try to appropriately address all of the perspectives in this conversation in a couple of posts.)

Ewwkay, at the end of the last post I said that I think an interesting place to begin the pornography discussion

"is with a suggestion that was made by one of the girls at my church in our annual youth group 'sex talk': that is, that pornography is actually something that can be empowering to women, and can be a celebration of the beauty of the human body".

To give you a bit of my reasoning, I'm starting here not because I'm fully comfortable with the statement, but because I'm inclined to think that there are good cultural and theological reasons to turn the Christian porno conversation on it's head, and to start with an approach that is open to affirming positives as well as negatives when it comes to this topic. For one thing, I think that if we view sexuality through the lens of sacramentality, wherein sex is viewed as something fundamentally holy and good, we're required to not be quickly dismissive of a type of sexual expression that is reportedly (though dubitably?) being practiced by 28,258 Internet users a second, and which can arguably be practiced without physical or material harm to others. We have to at least leave open the possibility that the bulk of those tens of thousands of pornography creators and viewers/second aren't morally bankrupt agents of a massive satanic conspiracy. I mean, maybe they are, maybe they aren't. Along those lines, I also think that it's necessary to hold this discussion in the sphere of reality, where pornography is recognized as a cultural norm--in the US and elsewhere--that most don't have major problems with and that probably isn't going to go away anytime soon, no matter how much we Bible-beaters rail against it. Jesus' relevant suggestion,

"But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed ADULTERY with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into HELL."

might be a good place for us to start, but it isn't a complex enough statement to address the depth of the issue.

As with almost all issues, I'm not ready to make any strong affirmations on this, but I will give you my inclinations in a loosely particular order:

1. If I had to make a blanket and summary statement on my views on pornography, it would be that there is nothing prima facie wrong with sexual imagery, and that sexual imagery can in fact be viewed in positive--even 'holy'--terms, but that the pornography industry as it exists in reality raises major problems of personal morality and social justice that have to be addressed and acted upon from a Christian perspective.

2. With a sacramental view of sexuality in mind, I think we have to--at the very least--affirm that the human factors that make the porno industry possible are positive aspects of our nature: that is, the male's desire to look at naked women (or men, or vice versa, depending on your sex and the way your door swings), and the female's (or male's) willingness to be admired and desired. Without these things, we'd all die out in a generation and frankly live much less interesting lives. Men who like nudie mags aren't perverts, and women who pose in them aren't sluts--they're just people doing what all of us do in some form or another.

With that in mind, the suggestion that some forms of pornography can be empowering to women, and that sexual imagery can represent a celebration of both beauty and sexuality is not really that far fetched. (Even if the suggestion that those things are true at a general level is questionable.) Sexuality is a part of who we are--part of God's image in us--and sexual imagery represents one form of sexual expression. The sexual acts and fantasies that accompany the production and viewing of that imagery do not have to be rejected as 'wrong' in blanket fashion, but can in some instances be seen as a healthy aspect of what it means to be human.

3. Porno does not have to equal a male's exploitation of a female in every case, because there is undoubtedly a sort of economy in all of this that can in theory represent an equal exchange: Hugh Heffner says to the beautiful young woman, I'll make you famous and give you an opportunity for advancement if you'll let me sell pictures of you in my magazine, and the beautiful young woman says to Hugh Heffner, I'll let you take pictures of me (and airbrush them) if you give me lots of money and the prospects to eventually end up acting in crappy movies and marry a rock star. (I'm not saying this is necessarily a good trade off, but it is a trade off that you can't paint as one party exploiting the other, at least in every case.)

On this track, questions of justice are the most difficult questions in relation to pornography: Does the woman get a fair trade-off in the experience? Does she dehumanize herself in the transaction? Does she really have a full say in what is done with her image and personality? What's the cultural and social cost? The biggest problem with pornography, I think, is that women do indeed get the short end of the stick in these sorts of transactions, and are generally exploited, at least to some degree.

4. Pornography is a subjective term, and our moral approach must be situational. The Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue is different from Playboy, which is different from 'erotic art', which is different from the porno movie and pay internet site industry, which is different from amateur internet porn, which is different from voyeuristic photos circulating without consent, which is different from child pornography. In each case, there are different issues which must be addressed, and it's unrealistic to pretend that these should be treated as one phenomenon.

5. Social relationships should play a role in pornography usage: there are different questions for the secretive male pornography viewer whose wife objects than for the female pornography viewer whose boyfriend finds that quality endearing. In both cases, these particular social questions have less to do with whether the imagery should be seen as offensive than with whether or not they are.

6. Pornography--and the porno industry--plays a major negative role in US culture. That is, it does play a role in the objectification and dehumanization of women from a male perspective, and it does play a role in the development of a sense of inadequacy among many girls and young women (though on this one I honestly think Teen Cosmo is a bigger problem than Playboy...). It's not the sole source of the problem, but it's a part of our social fabric that is generally in an unhealthy place.

7. Pornography would probably be less widespread (and damaging) if we could talk about sexuality in an open, non-guilt ridden, manner, and if Christian leaders would stop trying to suppress it.

8. A full discussion of this issue is impossible without female input, but most females don't want to talk to men about it. Vice versa is also true.

Part One: An Episcopal Theology of Sex Jr.: On Pornography!!

A month or so back I posted a few times on sex, or more specifically on my attempt to develop a way to think about sexuality consistently and realistically from an Episcopalian perspective. For a while now I've been wanting to write a little more on that topic, and have been thinking that the logical next step is to try to make a few Episco-theological suggestions about pornography based on the ideas I presented in the original post. In honor of my brother and his professed love of porno joining the blog, and in the interest of continuing to post on topics of prime interest for evangelical teenage boys, I've decided that it's finally time to give that a go. My hope, as always, is to try to be faithful to reality and Anglican tradition as I see them, and to avoid saying anything that will get me fired from my youth ministry job or shunned by my friends and neighbors.

This one, I must say, is extremely difficult--definitely more difficult than coming up with some spiritual suggestions about sexuality in general--because it's an attempt to address a religious belief that I sort of made up (well, not really) to reality: that is, it's an attempt to interpret pornography through the magical seer-stone glasses of a sacramental theology of sex. This attempt is also extremely difficult (and questionable) because I'm a male, and the most troubling moral aspects of pornography from a social justice-oriented Christian perspective relate to the exploitation and objectification of women. Because of the difficulty of the topic, this is going to need to be a multiple-post discussion. With that in mind, let's dive right in...

First off, let me clarify--this discussion isn't about masturbation. I'll only go so far here as to say that I generally think that that dirty deed is morally neutral (so Christians, stop your ridiculous obsessing about it). Spoiler alert for the ladies: all healthy men--even most husbands and sexually active boyfriends--do it with some degree of regularity, and it's an (almost) unavoidable bodily function. It's gross and unwholesomely fun, but so is pooping and sneezing and most everything else we try to confine to the bathroom. Giggling nerd scientists have even recently found evidence that it's good for us guys. Spoiler alert for the men: the stats show that almost all women also do it at some point in life, though not as much as you would probably like to think, and not as frequently as you do. If God doesn't want us to masturbate, then, well, he isn't very realistic. We could of course argue about masturbation all day, but I don't want to do that here, and if you're interested here's a random link to some people that do.

What I'm more concerned about is pornography--or, maybe more specifically, imagery that is created in order to produce sexual arousal. (Those might be different things, but for the sake of simplicity let's use porno as the blanket term in our present discussion.) The usual process with this sort of discussion in Christian circles is to start from the position that pornography is evil, offensive and degrading to women, and then to try to think of things to say about why God doesn't like it and neither should you. I--being ever the pragmatist and ever the diplomat--don't want to start there, because I don't know that it's really very helpful. In my scattershot research, I have come across fewer scientific statistics in relation to porno usage than I have on inter-personal sex, but I would be willing to wager that all of the religious condemnation of porno has played a relatively minor role in actual human behavior anyway.

I think a much more interesting place to begin the discussion (monologue) is with a suggestion that was made by one of the girls at my church in our annual youth group 'sex talk': that is, that pornography is actually something that can be empowering to women, and can be a celebration of the beauty of the human body (and the qualifying 'can' is important here). I cringed when she initially made this suggestion ("No!! Don't say that!! That's the patriarchal media corrupting your innocent young mind and transforming you into a tool for exploitation!!"), but I think it might be important to hear the idea out. With that in mind, I'm going to leave this topic as I go about my business over the weekend. Feel free to share your thoughts and talk amongst yourselves...

Maybe I'll be a Deacon for the Whore of Babylon?

Along with being occupied with about fifty work commitments this weekend, including a major fundraising concert at Multifaith Works and Youth Sunday at St. Margaret's, I've been doing some interesting reading. About five years ago, my dad's dad lent me this old book that I've finally opened up, audaciously titled "Birth of a Reformation" about the founding of the denomination I grew up in, The Church of God (Anderson). Our founder was one D.S. Warner, an itinerant preacher who got kicked out of the "Winebrennerian" sect (also called the Church of God) because of his view that Christians can--and should--be entirely sanctified and free of sin. He subsequently denounced the Winebrennerians, and all other members of all other churches, and tried to start a non-sectarian Church by going into congregations and exhorting members to leave their Babylonian, Satan inspired organizations behind to worship with him. The turning point for him happened on April 9, 1878, when he wrote in his diary:

"The Lord blessed me and greatly awakened my own mind and I think opened the eyes of others to the importance of abandoning all human and party creeds, party names, party spirit, and party interests in order to maintain a life of perfect holiness, as well as to the duty of returning to the "faith once delivered to the saints" in its entirety."

The movement took off, at least a little, and 150 years later it's a (non-denominational) denomination with about a million members around the world, though it still has no official membership. Charles Schultz of Peanuts fame and Bill Gaither of awful Southern Gospel Music fame are the only two COGAites whose names you probably recognize, though I think saccharine Christian singer Steven Curtis Chapman also was a (non) member at one point. My family goes back with the movement about as far as you can: my great-grandparents on both sides were part of it, my Grandma's dad was ordained in it, and all of us kids were raised in it, though my generation and my parents' generation have generally crept away from it.

For those of you who've followed my postings for any amount of time, you might be interested to know that this is the (non) denomination that I grew up in, as I have since embraced the second most Babylonian denomination of them all (after the Catholics) in the Anglican communion. The interesting part about reading this book for me has been that it's helped me to identify some of the roots of my complaints about the Episcopal Church, where I still find myself sitting a little uneasily. In fact, I'm surprised by how much I identify with Warner's worries about membership in any religious sect, though my cultural situation is quite different from his, and though I'm not yet as sold as he was on phrenology. How very American-individualist of me, but I'm inclined to agree with his suggestion that "To join a sectarian denomination is never by divine prompting, but is urged from human source". I would agree, in fact, that I'm an Anglican due to pragmatic (though also spiritual) expediency rather than a strong sense of "divine calling" to the denomination. I'm here because I feel like I need to be somewhere, and this will do.

Something that's certainly affecting the way I'm reading this is that I've been going through another cycle of questioning whether I really want to marry the Episcopal Church and become a priest. I'm just still not sure that the benefits of the priesthood outweigh the costs, or even that I really want to spend my life playing the role that a priest does. I don't know that I want to embed myself that deeply in the church community (and hence cut myself off that completely from the non-church community) , or put myself in the situation where I'm dependent upon the church for income (to pay off the ridiculous student loans that I will accrue if I go to seminary, among other things). I feel like this church, like all churches, is so screwed up that I need to maintain some level of separation from it and function as a critical/prophetic voice rather than as a sanctioning voice. As a priest, that's a difficult role to play--not just b/c your livelihood depends upon keeping the church happy, but also b/c your pledged role is to be a unifier and gatherer in the community.

Which is why I'm finding myself newly enamored with the Diaconate. A Deacon's role in the Episcopal Church is basically to live in the real world, and to grab the institutional folks and shake them until they wake up to what's happening there and act accordingly. (You're also supposed to focus your time on working with the poor, the ill, and the dispossessed, which I'm totally down with.) It's an ordained position, so the bishop lays his/her magic hands on you and tells you that you're special, but not generally a paid one, and hence not generally one that I've thought about much. Now though, having realized that there are lots of other things a strapping young lad like myself can do to make money, I'm getting more and more intrigued by the possibility of freedom to exist in the real world and the church simultaneously. D.S. Warner, of course, would be disappointed with me, but honestly it's in his spirit that I'm thinking in these terms. I just can't see myself as someone who wants to sanctify the Way Things Are. I want to travel outside of the structure and challenge it as much as I want to travel inside the structure and sanction it.


(This popped up when I typed in "Deacon" on corbis.com. It's a picture of Queen.)

This is what you say you'll do as a Deacon, and I find that I'm pretty comfortable with it--probably more comfortable than I presently am with the promises you make as a priest:

"My brother, every Christian is called to follow Jesus Christ,
serving God the Father, through the power of the Holy Spirit.
God now calls you to a special ministry of servanthood
directly under your bishop. In the name of Jesus Christ, you
are to serve all people, particularly the poor, the weak, the
sick, and the lonely.

As a deacon in the Church, you are to study the Holy
Scriptures, to seek nourishment from them, and to model
your life upon them. You are to make Christ and his
redemptive love known, by your word and example, to those
among whom you live, and work, and worship. You are to
interpret to the Church the needs, concerns, and hopes of the
world. You are to assist the bishop and priests in public
worship and in the ministration of God's Word and
Sacraments, and you are to carry out other duties assigned to
you from time to time. At all times, your life and teaching are
to show Christ's people that in serving the helpless they are
serving Christ himself."

Awash in the sea of liberal culture...

Whew! It's been a busy week for us liberal do-gooders in Seattle! If you read this earlier post, you know that there's been a lot happening here. For my part, along with my regular work, I've spent the last six days helping out with the National Episcopal Healing Our Planet Earth Conference that St. Margaret's hosted, attending its accompanying events, and talking about its implications at church and youth group. In the process, I've been used as a prop in a liturgical dance about the desecration of Puget Sound, chatted with and taken communion from the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, Katharine Jefferts Schori, facilitated a discussion on the environment in a bar, complained about Christians with some friends in our co-op, sung songs of praise to the earth and the sea, and tried to sell the ideas behind The Genesis Covenant to a youth group. I'm disappointed that I'm not going to be able to make it to any of the Seeds of Compassion Conference with the Dalai Lama.

I know what some of you may be thinking, I understand, and I'm a little bit ashamed that I've come to fulfill the stereotypes so comprehensively. In fact, as I was standing in front of the crowd at the liturgical dance, using my body to represent man's oppressive environmental destructiveness, I had to ask myself how I got to this point. As I dramatically opened a giant glass door so the dancer could burst forth into the open air, I realized two things. Firstly, that I like to try to not care which side of the 'liberal/conservative' divide I'm on anymore (but really do), and secondly, that I really haven't changed fundamentally since my evolution-questioning, George W. Bush voting evangelical days.

I would guess that most people hit the point where they realize that they really shouldn't care which 'camp' they fall into--religiously, politically, or otherwise. We should just do, think and vote what we believe to be right, regardless of the 'movement' that we might happen to be a part of. In reality--among the young at least, but I suspect across generations--we secretly fret about what our neighbors think of us, and try to project a specific, commonly recognized image. While there might be some variety of images to latch on to, unless we're crazy we seem to always align ourselves with a particular, identifiable camp--even if we don't fully agree with the stereotypes--and privately define ourselves according to camp rules. I've always wanted to be seen as a good person (and to actually be one), so as a youth I latched on to evangelical Christianity in the attempt to do so. As an adult, that camp caused me too much cognitive dissonance, so I joined a new one in Anglican/liberal/emerging Christianity. While at heart my reasons for camp-attendance have been personal and individually determined, despite what I think I'm defining myself according to communal expectations. Hence, this week I didn't protest as much as I might have previously when asked to be used as a prop in a liturgical dance about the environment, and worked hard to see the good in what we were doing as we sang hymns to the earth in a Christian conference despite the pantheistic overtones.

(On a related sidebar which you might find interesting (but probably not as interesting as I do), along with wanting to be seen as (and be) a good person, I also don't want to be seen as mainstream (although I actually generally am). That's why as I post another blog about me (but also about you), I'm fretting about the fact that I'll just be seen as another self-obsessed 20-something blogger. But, as we all know, you're self-obsessed too, reading blogs in part to figure out which camp you want to align yourself with in order to define yourself as slightly distinctive, hip, and probably good.)

The good news is that all of our self-obsessions and camp-building are really just side-notes in the larger picture: group dynamics that affect the decisions that we make as communities, but not really what it's all about. That's why it's back to the grindstone, trying to do, think and vote in the right way, regardless of cultural alignments. And that's why now I'm going to take a timed shower in the attempt to continue cutting back on my resource usage, and then go to lunch with a deacon to try to promote ministry to people with AIDS in our community before I write a sermon on God's love for all people.

Mustard Seeds in the 'burbs

For my second "Mustard Seed" post of the day, I'll briefly submit for your consideration St. Margaret's Episcopal Church in Bellevue, WA, where I am employed as the bumbling youth minister. Contra most images of the emerging church, we are an established congregation in a wealthy suburb, with a healthy mix of grey hair, boomers, young families and a youth group. We don't have high tech presentations in our services, and not many people would self-identify as post-modern. We're certainly not part of an identifiable movement, and not many conversations. Our sanctuary-style I like to describe as "Pottery Barn", and lots of our congregants drive SUVs (with a few scattered Priuses).

However, in the year and a half I've worked there, I've come to realize that many of the trends in Anglimergence are also trends at St. Margaret's. We're self-consciously missional and trying to figure out what that looks like in our happy little suburb. We recently began the process of attempting to sell off a chunk of our land for the construction of low-income housing (of which almost none exists in Bellevue), we have an established thrift store that gives away $25-30K to mission every six months, and our maintenance guy (actually a 'Sexton' in Episcopal terms), not a Christian but one who spells God "Nature" with a capital N, and I recently began a series whose aim is to determine how we should live responsibly and missionally in the midst of an environmental crisis. Every Wednesday, we open our doors to youth from the school across the street, provide them with a place to hangout, and feed them junkfood and energy drinks as a service to the local community. (Props to Buzz Matthews, my predecessor, white rapper and by all accounts genius youth minister, for establishing that one.) Our senior warden and others are attending mission conferences and thinking outside the box about ways we can be the church in Bellevue. We're renting out our building to community organizations, teaming with interdenominational congregations, and reaching out to our community on a regular basis. I'm not sure how it happened, but all of these old folks and boomers drifted in an emergent direction without even having a pastor with cool postmodern crap. In five years, I won't be surprised if they have established a monastic community on the property, right next to Target and Old Navy. I personally am trying to figure out what it means to be a youth minister in this context--having some success and lots of failure, but generally appreciating the gift of employment and freedom that St. Margaret's has given.

St. Margaret's is, honestly, the primary reason that I'm skeptical about all the suggestions that traditional and institutional churches are hopeless, and that we have to establish something new. History is a story of cultural drift, with only the occasional revolution. St. Marg's is evidence that cultural drift is still happening, and that institutions can transform rather rapidly to meet a changing set of circumstances--even when twenty-something leaders aren't given full reign. It's one of the key reasons that I'm committed to working in a missional direction in the institutional church, and evidence that established churches can use their significant resources to move in innovative directions.

Action at St. Mark's...

Well, for those following the goings on at St. Mark's Cathedral in Seattle, the home of my discernment process and ongoing drama, the Dean, Robert Taylor, officially resigned yesterday. (For those who haven't been tracking, there's been a rocky relationship between Robert and the community for about a year to a year and a half, focusing around money, the Dean's leadership style, several staff firings last year, and conflicting visions of what the community should be about.) I just reviewed all of the material on the website about the separation, and I'm coming away from the whole experience with mixed--though not intense--emotions.

My basic feeling as a parishioner is that this stage has probably ended as gracefully as it could have. I'm a little disappointed that the Dean didn't have a go at the first recommendation of the Donovan Report (that is, the recommendation to take some time away from the community and see if things can be worked out), but I respect the decision that was made. I also have to admit that I'm generally happy to be part of church hierarchy in this particular situation, because the guidance of Bishops has contributed significantly to this being worked out in a way that wasn't (apparently?) horribly ugly. On the other side of things of course, a lot of the problems had to do with the way we structure our hierarchy, and the power given to the vestry and the Dean. From reading the material, and from experiencing the situation, my feeling is that there has been a level of disconnect between the congregation and the leadership, which is to some degree fostered by our church structure. It's a question whether structural/cultural issues will be addressed now that Robert has resigned. It's a savvy congregation, so I hope so, but we Episcopalians aren't particularly flexible when it comes to changing our structures. Color me conflicted.

I'm also sad to see Robert go, especially on a generally bad note. He's a person who I have deep respect for on a lot of levels. He has flaws, and as the Donovan report points out, those flaws ultimately contributed to this hubbub, but he's also a religious genius on a lot of levels and has lived a life worthy of a positive wikipedia entry. My uneducated feeling is that the problem has been as much about vestry and the community's structure as it has been Robert, but he'll be the one who has to face the most negative consequences on this one.

All in all, I think think that the report material does a good job of diffusing the sense of the dramatic in the situation. In minister resignations, everyone loves when there is gross moral misconduct, sex, murder, etc., but in this case that hasn't happened. Some people have been mad enough to act like it has, but some people get too mad too easily. There have been a lot of people who have understandably left the community, but my feeling is that the congregation is on relatively solid ground. This one probably won't light up the blogosphere too much, except maybe with those who recognize the significance of Robert's leadership in the gay religious community. Consequently, despite the significance of what's happened in this, my parish church, I'm not that inspired to write a long blog on this. It's been a long time coming, it's been handled well, and I just spent the weekend with 60 teenagers.

The Beginnings of an Episcopal Theology of Sex

The Episcopal Church in particular and the Anglican Communion in general have in recent years functioned effectively as theologically progressive institutions, allowing space for a wide variety of Christian belief systems to develop within their walls. However, my observation is that this isn't because we're particularly good at doing progressive theology. Focusing specifically on the subject of sexuality, the Episcopal Church has functioned as a trailblazer in its acceptance of new practical definitions to what is acceptable sexually for Christians, but has offered little formal reason for doing so. Being the hugely influential Episcopal blogger that I am, I've decided that it's high time for me to fill the gap. The world needs me, and my church needs me, to explain how we Episcopalians can justifiably be so welcoming towards the planet's 31 flavors of sexual practices. Furthermore, it needs me to offer these remarks off the top of my head, so I don't have to do any further research, hence validating the stereotype that Episcopalians are not doing their work theologically. (My hope is that this post will generate at least one more angry anonymous rant comment--and that some will lean towards my (sexual (ha ha)) position.)

To explain a few basic facts about the way things have worked in recent Episcopal thinking on sex, the first point to understand (and I'll continue to speak in broad generalities. I hope you don't mind) is foundational, and relates to our theology in general. We do theology according to a three-legged blend of "scripture, tradition and reason", and on this particular issue, our thought isn't shaped by a rigid view of scripture or tradition--both are seen as directive rather than restrictive. They're the older generation that point us in the direction that we should head, give us a few landmarks to look for, and allow us to find our own way in the theological jungle--using, of course, our reason.

Reason plays perhaps the most important role in the present discussion. It's largely because of reason that most Episcopalians have become willing to accept homosexuality, and perhaps also some formerly unacceptable expressions of heterosexuality (pre-marital sex in some instances, divorce and remarriage, etc.), against the apparent direction of scripture and tradition. You see, in recent years, science and reason have taught us some important facts about sexuality. One is that sexual orientation is not, in almost any circumstance, a "choice" in the traditional sense--it's not something people can logically consider and then make a decision on. It is, rather, probably an expression of the interaction between biological makeup ("how God made us") and cultural upbringing, which is ultimately unavoidable (notice that I'm talking about orientation here, not behavior. Notice also that I'm, once again, talking in generalities. Quibble with the details if you want). It's just a part of who you are.

It's also important to recognize that we Episcopalians have generally--in recent years--been a compassionate people when it comes to sex: not many hard edged fundamentalists here. (Don't forget that many of our priests are Catholics who couldn't deal with the celibacy thing.) We value sex, think it's important, and don't think anyone should have to go without if they don't want to. God created sex, so we should enjoy it. In my evaluation, Episcopalians primary guideline when it comes to sex is Jesus' teaching that the most important thing in life besides loving God is to love your neighbor as yourself (no double entendre is being suggested), rather than moral injunctions from Paul or the Old Testament, or even Jesus suggestion, interpreted in a hard moral sense, that even the one who lusts commits adultery. Hence, the place where we come out is that sex is good, as long as it doesn't hurt anyone, or more clearly as long as it is done in love. (That principle, though stated crudely, and often dismissed as "liberal" actually represents an expression of the Golden Rule which has complex interpretations and ramifications, none of which I'll outline here.) Many of us are old and white, so we don't generally like to talk about sex, but at the same time we don't view it as something dark or naughty (unless that's what turns you on).

When you put these two characteristics together, what you come out with is a relatively sexually permissive culture. We don't see sex as something which is leading to the decline of Western Civilization. It's part of who we are, and a basic function of what it means to be a human. It, like everything, can be abused, damaged and misused, but that doesn't mean it should have a stigma attached any more than other human traits.

This general picture is pretty clear, and I think probably as far as most casual Episcopalians go in their theology of sex. The concern, I think, is that we need to go further. We need to be able to think and talk about sex in terms that are coherent, logical and theologically consistent with our Anglican tradition. Lots of people (well, other Christian types) are mad at us about the way we've approached sex, and we need to be able to explain why we do the things we do, rather than just telling them to get off our back. (We Episcopalians can also tend to be the liberal-because-it's-cool types, who just want you to let us do our thing, and we'll let you do yours.) In my opinion, the way to go about that in the future is to develop the concept of sex as sacrament.

I haven't really done my research, so take this with a grain of salt, but my thesis is that most traditional theologies of sex have been developed, at least in part, to try to convince the unmarried (especially teenagers) that they shouldn't do it. The problem with sex has always been that it's lots of fun, and that it can get you into trouble. (That's still true today despite all of the talk of safe sex.) Being the responsible do-gooders that we are, Christians throughout the ages have said that God says "no no no", and it seems with good practical reason. Nobody likes STDs and unwanted pregnancies (except maybe folks at the big pharmaceutical companies). My position is that "no no no" simply isn't the correct answer--not now, and probably not ever. Rather, we should allow the notion that sexual activity is an "outward sign of an inward grace" (The Catholic Dictionary's definition of "Sacrament") to direct our thought and behavior.

Historically, Anglicans (aka Episcopalians in the US) have identified Baptism, Confession and absolution, Holy Matrimony, Holy Eucharist (also called Holy Communion or Mass), Confirmation, Holy Orders (also called Ordination), and Anointing of the Sick (also called Unction) as our "official" capitol S Sacraments, and may it continue to be so. However, many of us think in more broadly sacramental terms--we see God as being present in our daily lives, our physical actions, and the world around us (The Anglican theologian John Polkinghorne's Panentheism is one reflection of this trend, I would argue). Hence everything takes on a sort of "Enchantment" (See also Alister McGrath on "The Reinchantment of Nature"). Sex, when viewed through this lens, clearly stands out as an act with spiritual overtones. It's an act which produces spiritual unity between two persons, which is why it is already recognized as a key aspect of the sacrament of matrimony, and it's probably the most common and universal source of "spiritual" experience in the world. (Sorry to burst your bubble Extreme Unction.) While many Christians would have you believe that this is true only of heterosexual sex performed within marriage, let's be honest, it's not. Sex prior to marriage generally doesn't destroy your life or future. In Western cultures, the majority of people enjoy positive and healthy sexual relationships prior to marriage. Sex can be affirmed, I say, as the sacramental expression of romantic love regardless of context.

Having said this, now is the part when I'm supposed to offer a list of disclaimers and Biblical justifications, because, well, what about the children?! THE CHILDREN!! Really all I want to say in terms of a disclaimer is don't be silly. I'm not saying that sex is universally good. Sometimes it's abusive or irresponsible, sometimes it's awkward and unenjoyable, and sometimes its just mundane. None of those facts undermines the argument that sex possesses a deep spiritual significance that even Paris Hilton can't deny. And honestly, I'm going to let you argue with the Bible about what's okay (interestingly enough, my spellcheck is suggesting that I change "okay" to "Tokay" here) sexually. I just don't have the energy for that anymore. I'm of the opinion that, when you read the whole thing honestly, you'll find that the Bible paints conflicting pictures about appropriate and acceptable sexual behavior, and in any case shouldn't be used as a rule book or bludgeoning device. "Use your noggin" is my guiding principle.

Worked out, this principle functions like all principles--it doesn't give you hard and fast rules, but if you think long enough about it, you can probably come up with some guidelines for your own situation. You probably won't be able to decide what's correct in every case, but you can figure out that some sexual expressions can be universally affirmed as good and right (within the bounds of a loving, committed relationship), some sexual expressions are morally indefensible (rape, molestation, etc.), and some sexual expressions probably fall into a gray area (consensual but not responsible?). This principle leaves lots of room for flexibility, which is frustrating in some instances (particularly when you're in the mood to tell someone they're going to Hell for what they've done) but that is, after all, the nature of life.

There is, as always, lots more that could be said, but it's past my bedtime.

Staying in Communion

So, today I had my meeting with one of our bishops, and generally things went well. Her advice was--should I make it through our commission on ministry--to start seminary in Canada at VST. Should I decide to stay there after a year or two, it would be a possibility to speak with the bishop in Vancouver about transferring in as a postulant (technical term for someone who's been sent to seminary by their diocese to prepare for ordination), which is generally less trouble than transferring in as someone midway through the discernment process. I'd finish my seminary there, and be ordained through the Canadian Church (and thus not tainting my resume with America). Otherwise, should Angel and I decide not to stay in Canada, I would have to do at least a year of seminary in the ECUSA--San Francisco, NY, etc. Seems pretty sensible to me :). A kind and gentle experience with the heirarchy, and it looks like a set-up that Angel and I can work with. Big ups, Bishop Nedi.

Looking back towards our previous days' discussion on discernment/ordination/the establishment, the fact is that I value the community aspect of Anglicanism too much to break off into a non-denominational group. While I think that there is value and need in the church for independents, it just doesn't work that well for me. I believe in the universality of the body of Christ--there is no right church or wrong church. Under that philosophy, I would ultimately stay "in communion" no matter where I go. However, there's something important to me in the symbolism of being a recognized part of a "catholic" church. It communicates something of the all embracing, historically connected, eternally existing nature of the church that I think I'd be in danger of losing should I go it alone. It's a big part of what drew me here, and I'm not ready to leave it yet.

I mentioned something yesterday as well about how I feel that Anglicanism works a little more smoothly in communally oriented cultures than it does in individualistically oriented ones, like the US. The point, I think, is that the Anglican system relies inherently on human trust for the community: you put yourself in the community's hands in the expectation that it's only through the community that we connect with God. When we all take that attitude, it works--people value the community at all levels, and thus look out for one another, practice neighborly love, etc. The shepherds take care of the flock, and the flock looks out for the shepherds. In some cultures, that sense that "we're all in this together" is stronger than in others. In the US it's weak, and the sense is that you have to take care of yourself because nobody else is going to do so. (That's why, Kiwis and Canadians, Hell will freeze over before we have a fully universal healthcare system here--if I can figure out a way to pay for insurance, why can't they?) Anglicanism here is essentially the same as it is elsewhere, in that it teaches a communal ethic and praxis. However, it often doesn't function naturally within our culture, because it's constantly struggling against the cultural push to take care of yourself, and to distrust your neighbors and leaders. (That sort of attitude creates a lot of unnecessary anxiety, by the way.) Not a universal sentiment here, but it's widespread enough to be noticeable on a daily basis if you're tuned in (especially if you're tuned in to Fox News). Particularly as we're getting a big infusion of (inherently individualistic) post-evangelicals (including myself), there's a significant struggle between individualism and communalism, which I think is creating ripples in lots of places. And that's a piece of why I want to move to Canada.

What I'm thinking

Whew! I'm humbled and delighted at the outpouring of advice, as well as the depth of discussion created by my posting of Mike's original letter! I do feel a little bad--and would like to apologize--about posting the letter prior to getting Mike's full public opinion. I know he presented himself in a way that he may not have done publically otherwise. (Don't worry Mike, I'll tell Karen to go easy on you :). In any case, she understands the frustrations of trying to change things from within the establishment as well as any, so I suspect that she might not disagree with you as totally as you think... ) Clearly though, he shouldn't feel bad about what he said, because what he struck a chord that was sufficiently challenging that folks got a little defensive--always a sign that you're somewhere close to the truth.

And indeed, I posted originally because Mike stated so clearly what one side of my mind has been saying, and I was eager to hear if anyone would be kind enough to voice the other side, and "talk me down" so to speak. In this discussion, John Hebenton has been, for my money, the best advocate of staying with the institution. I have to admit that his views might be skewed a bit, being part of the (relatively) very healthy New Zealand Anglican Church. NZ is just a better world than the US all around :). In the US, my experience is that Anglican/Episcopal heirarchy functions a little differently, with our individualism and distrust of our neighbors throwing some unfortunate wrinkles into the Anglican system, which in my view functions most effectively in communal cultures, as does Catholicism. I'd like to comment more on that later, but I'm pressed for time right now and wanted to let you all know--who've been kind enough to put in a lot of time trying to help/persuade me--a little bit about what I'm thinking.

Tomorrow I have a meeting with the bishop who is in charge of discernment in our diocese, partly to discuss my place in the process. I think I've sorted out the gist of what I'm going to say--informed in many ways by this discussion.

Having spent two years in formal discernment in the Church, I've come to realize that there are currently several very strong pulls in my life, all of which I see as essential to fulfilling my calling. There's the pull to pursue the priesthood in the Anglican Communion, the pull to settle somewhere which promises to be a long term home, and the pull to give Angel the opportunity to get her career as a nurse practitioner established.

We've realized that the best hope for a long term home for us might not be in the US, because we've drifted out of connection with our culture, and neither of us has the desire or will to stay around and fight the political and ideological battles that will be facts of daily life in our chosen careers. (Remember that she works in health care and I work in religion and social services...) We've realized that essentially we're trying to fight the culture we live in on a number of levels, and that's not really where we want to spend our energy. So, it seems that the most promising location for us to accomplish our goals seems to be the Vancouver, B.C. area. It's got Nurse Practitioner jobs, it's got an Anglican seminary, it's absolutely beautiful, it's no further from family than we are now, it has a culture similar to New Zealand's (which we loved), and it's a two hour drive away from our present home, so we can maintain our present relationships, at least on some level.

My hope is that I can continue in the process of discernment, and ultimately the process of ordination, in the diocese I'm in, and also achieve the above stated goals. I think I can, if the community is willing to work with me and bend a few of it's less important principles. I think I am called to the priesthood, and that I have a voice that will be valuable for this community. I also want to give back to the people who have helped and supported me here as much as possible. However, the fact is that if this diocese isn't willing to send me to seminary in Vancouver--i.e., if it wants me to go to New York or San Francisco for at least a year--I'm not at a place where I'm sure that I'm willing to make the sacrifices that it would take to be ordained here. I'd rather step back and go through the steps I need to with the Diocese of New Westminster--albeit continuing in discernment during my time here in Seattle. I'm confident that I can fulfill a priestly role, and find work to support myself and Angel in any case, so I'm at peace with that. One of the functions of the discernment process is to help the discerner realize when it might be time to "wait" when it comes to ordination, and I'm at peace with my situation if that should be what we decide. (At the same time, my prejudice is that "wait" would be a decision that's made based primarily on unnecessarily rigid enforcement of diocesan procedures, rather than a healthy view of what's good for me and the church community in general).

I am of course putting the cart before the horse here--I'm not at a point where I've been presented by my congregation, and my bishop isn't at a point where she, or the Commission on Ministry, are making any decisions. However, I'm confident in my calling at this point, and I think that the Church will recognize it. (If not, what a relief in some ways!) I need there to be a full understanding--a full level of honesty about where I am--in order to continue in this process (more great advice from John H.) , and we're at a stage where this discussion is important.

With that, thanks once again for all of the great, and often very touching, advice. Now, it's off to pick up my wife and have my 28th Birthday dinner!

My second anonymous letter in two days (sort of)

Some advice on my dilemma: Somebody give me some advice here. What do you think? Can somebody defend the other side?

In my inbox today, under the title "Unsolicited, totally inappropriate advice"

"Hi Tim,

We don't really know each other - we're Facebook friends, and we have a common friend in the inimitable Karen Ward (who would disagree with me in the strongest terms on what I'm about to say). I friended you on FB when I saw that you were asking questions that resonated with me on the Anglimergent site. In any case, you don't know me, so obviously take this very impertinent advice with a grain of salt. However, for whatever it's worth, here's what some dude you don't know thinks after reading your latest blog post:

Don't do it, brother. Don't get ordained. Don't endanger your marriage. Don't submit yourself to a denominational hierarchy which you're completely right not to trust, for all that it's made up largely of well-intentioned, faithful people. It's preoccupied with priorities that have very little to do with what it sounds like God is calling you to - or with God's kingdom, for that matter. (I'm not for a moment denying that these are thoroughly mixed up with kingdom priorities and kingdom-hearted individuals within TEC.)

My opinion is that you have much to lose and little to gain by becoming a covenanted part of that hierarchy. You don't need them. You don't need their permission, and you don't need their resources. Just move wherever it makes sense to go for you and Angel, find some Jesus-followers with similar callings, and start doing church. Do it as Anglican as you're called to do it. I'm an Anglican, and I have strong, active friendships and partnerships within the TEC system, but that's not my primary place of ministry and Christian community. The church I'm primarily a part of is nondenominational (but not isolated or stand-alone - we have *strong* peer network relationships with both denominational and nondenominational communities) with Anglican "DNA" - we use the BCP in worship and much of our tradition is very Anglican. But not exclusively so, and we're not formally affiliated. We don't need a bishop's permission to experiment, and we're free to forge generative friendships with folks in TEC *and* (for example) CANA - and, of course, ELCA, PCUSA, PCA, EFree, etc., etc. And we do!

You don't need permission. You don't need ordination. You don't need a building (start in a home or rent a coffee shop), a pension, or a full-time salary (get those through other means - Angel's job, you work part time, etc.). All you need is a small collection of people who are hearing God's call in similar ways and are bold and humble enough to listen to the Spirit and each other in community.

I could say more, but I've already said way more than I have any right to say. But I just wanted to offer this opinion: you don't need to make this bargain. It can be done without turning over your future to an organization that has other things on its mind. We're doing it. It's hard as hell sometimes, but it's friggin' wonderful too.

Peace,
(Person whose name I removed b/c I didn't get their permission to post this, but you probably wouldn't know anyway because I don't.)"

This is reassurring anyway

America's Unfaithful Faithful

It's true what they say about politics and religion

As you can probably tell from my recent posts, those two subjects are likely to drive me insane. Politics have me contemplating leaving the country of my birth (again), and religion has me questioning everything I've done in life to this point. When you put the two together, I have these potentially irreconcilable needs to 1. move away to B.C. and 2. stay put in the US to finish jumping through hoops so I can be ordained sooner rather than later. (There's also a number 3, which may be incompatible with either or both of the other two--the need to support my wife in her career development). It feels like I've hit a breaking point on a lot of things, and some sort of shift of direction has got to happen in my life trajectory. I'm not convinced yet that ordination in the Episcopal Church and I are compatible--though I have to stay optimistic.

The frustration is that my concerns have very little to do with calling. The role of priest, as I understand it, and as the church outlines it, is as appealing as ever. Theologically the church works, and it seems that on the other side of this process the church works. The frustration is what the next 3-5 years look like. Right now they look like uncertainty, which is driving both Angel an I crazy. At this stage in the process, I really am at the mercy of the Bishop and the Diocesan Commission on Ministry. I'm relatively confident that my church will support my ordination. Once I get to BACOM and the Bishop, I'm relatively certain that they will also (though no guarantees). However, after that it is all up in the air. Worst case scenario, they may tell me that I have to spend three years in seminary in a different state and two doing CPE's (ministry placements). Best case scenario, they may tell me that I can go to Vancouver, do one year of seminary and settle--doing placements there and getting acquainted with the Canadian Church. It could also be anything in between, and it could be that they'll say that I'm not cut out for this. It could be that they'll say that I am cut out for this, and that I have to fulfill requirements that will be potentially damaging to my marriage (i.e., spending a year somew