The Lost Leader

I have pretty much given up on Abp. Williams. The recent political machinations of the Archbishop of Canterbury, including his petty slights to the Presiding Bishop (some of them
truly petty), are one thing. Add Canon Kearon's informing the Episcopal Church's Executive Council (in a meeting he tried to have behind closed doors)that TEC's relegation to second-tier status will not be limited to the sanctions thus far and that the "problem of increased and growing diversity in the Anglican Communion has been an issue for many years....[and that]" by the 1990s leaders in the communion "had begun to name 'the diversity of opinions in the communion and diversity in general as a problem and sought some mechanisms to address it.'" Now add his last ditch effort to peel some of the required 2/3 votes off of legislation to allow consecration of women bishops to create overlapping bishoprics so that anti-women bishop parishes may secede from the diocese while urging that the far more radical Anglican Covenant be adopted by a simple majority of votes at Synod. (1)

Williams, surprisingly to those of us who welcomed his selection, has spent his arch-episcopal tenure living up to Pete Townshend's depressing image of religious authority here:



How sad. He could have been a true shepherd, and not just a man in a purple dress.

(1) Williams' position is all the more notable since he has written that the "diocese is the organ of union with the wider church" and yet is willing to fragment it, meanwhile making it easier to radically change the relationship of Church of England to the other members of the Communion to a juridicial one on a fast track, while drawing out and requiring a supermajority to approve the consecration of female bishops, the logic of which is pretty inexorable in view of the prior decision to ordain women to the priesthood.

Shocked by sin. Shocked!

This is a sermon from two Sundays ago (June 13, 2010), Proper 6C (Luke 7:36-8:3)

Have you ever noticed that the first people who are the most startled by the existence of sin are Christians?

Think about it, the people who gasp the loudest, protest the most vehemently, and appear the angriest when confronted with the possibility of sin in their midst are very often Christians...or at least religious people.

We all know who are the ones who demand the most perfection first, right? The ones who want the laws or the codes or the punishments to regulate people who act out in a way that these folks consider sinful. Yup, you guessed it. The Christians. Unless, of course, you draw a cartoon (any cartoon critical or not) of Mohammad. Then it’s the Muslims. Or if you act like a Buddhist (or a Christian) in certain parts of South Central Asia, then it night be someone from some kind of an Hindu sect who might burn down your temple. You get the idea. But it is still strange that religious people are so shocked by sin.

It’s strange because you would think that religious people, especially Christians who believe that we are saved by grace and who follow a God who went to such lengths to confront the consequences of human sinfulness, would be a little more sanguine about the reality of sin. “Well, you gotta love ‘em, people are just so human aren’t they?” I mean the closest I ever hear of a Christian who accepts the reality of sin for what-it-is is the recovering alcoholic who sees another alcoholic’s behavior but doesn’t rage, and is not shocked but says: “There but for the grace of God, go I.”

In the eighth circle of Hell, according to Dante's Inferno, in the sixth "pouch," reside the Hypocrites. All those who feigned righteousness but were inwardly wicked live there. They are doomed to spend eternity walking in circles wearing cloaks that are dazzling gold on the outside but lined with lead on the inside. Thinking oneself better than others, which is perhaps the most common form of hypocrisy, is a sin that is a constant temptation to God’s followers throughout the ages.

I probably should not admit this, but in many, many ways, I really admire Simon the Pharisee. The person who is hosting Jesus in today’s Gospel has such as easy, relaxed manner. He invites Jesus over to the house for dinner. Gets to recline and talk theology, the weather, and whatever passes for baseball in the first century. Simon and Jesus appear to be on a first name basis, which, you have to admit, is kind of cool.

You don’t get to be on a first name basis with Jesus by being sleazy. You don’t invite Jesus over for dinner by being a religious hard-liner, either. I mean, yeah, Simon was a Pharisee, but back then that really wasn’t so bad.

These days we might call someone who is nit-picky about religious rules “a pharisee,” as in “he is being pharisaic,” (well, okay, maybe only in crossword puzzles…!) but that image comes along much later when the Gospels are being written down by people who were far away from the everyday life that Jesus saw. This might surprise you, but in Jesus’ day, the Pharisees were generally the reformers, the good guys. They dearly wanted people to follow the heart of the Law—to love God and to love neighbor---from the heart. And they looked for ways to help people to be observant, faithful Jews even if they lived far, far away from the Temple. They wanted being a child of Moses and an inheritor of the Covenant to be lived spontaneously, from the heart. The Pharisees did not worry about the Temple practices of sacrifice so much because the family, the Synagogue, and the community was more than enough.

I like Simon the Pharisee, because, well, Pharisees-R-Us! If I lived back then, I’d be a Pharisee. I’ll bet that if Simon were alive today, he’d be an Episcopalian.
Really. He’s one of the good guys. And he is shocked by sin. Not in the Inspector Renault kind of way. He is deeply troubled that sin happens and can come into his house. And he is even more shocked when this woman, who is described as a “sinner” (whatever the heck that means!) is being so, well, dramatic around Jesus. Weeping and washing his feet with her tears and Jesus does not seem to care? What’s up with that?

Well, actually, Jesus does care. Just not in the way you, or me, or Simon thinks.
Jesus tells his friend a parable about two debtors whose debts have been forgiven. After the story, he quizzes Simon on this, as any good rabbi might. Of the two, who is more grateful? The one with the greater debt, Simon says.

Simon, Jesus says, you are I are on a first name basis. But this woman is weeping and washing her feet with my tears. We are having a cozy little get together, but she is massaging and washing my feet with ointment. We are having a nice chat, but she can’t stop saying thank you. So though her sins are many, her gratitude is deeper. Her faith, her awareness of the depth of her forgiveness, is what is driving her.

Jesus reminds Simon (and us) that those who recognize the depths of their sin are more honest than those who think their sins are relatively minor and insignificant; consequently, the former, when they are forgiven, will be more in tune with God than those who think they have little or no sin.
He also reminds his friend Simon that he and Jesus’ other friend, the woman who crashed the party, that they have one very important thing in common: they are both forgiven.

I think Jesus’ little parable might have startled Simon because I will bet that he believed himself more or less free from sin, almost above the fray, so he neither seeks nor receives forgiveness. His day-to-day hypocrisy was not that he was religious zealot or dictator. His problem was that he thought he pretty well had it figured out. This is how most everyday Christians get fooled into thinking that we have no need of God or God’s forgiveness. We think that sin, the really bad ones, are for the other guy, just like we think that hypocrisy is only for those crazy people.

I don’t believe that the woman was a bigger sinner than Simon…but Simon did, and that was the problem! Since he thought that he had his act more or less together, it was not hard for him to turn the woman into an “other”, about whom rules are made and on whom conditions are placed. The kind of person we might say we welcome but whose presence is merely tolerated. Even two thousand years later we struggle with this.

The woman was not a bigger sinner than Simon, she was just better at recognizing her sin, and she was more honest about admitting it. Psalm 51 says our sins are always before God--we can't hide them. As we say this, too: Remember that prayer we say every time we come into the space?
Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires known, and from you no secrets are hid….
We are all sinners in need of forgiveness and redemption. The good news is that through Jesus’ incarnation, cross and resurrection, God has overcome the chasm of sin forgiven and, through the gift of the Holy Spirit gives us the chance to live in daily relationship with God. The good news is that God stands ready to forgive us if we will only ask. The good news is that we are loved and welcomed by God no matter how deeply our hearts are wounded.

And as we plumb the depths of our forgiveness, I think we will find ourselves a little less shocked by sin, a little more ready to forgive, better prepared to cut people some slack, and a lot more grateful to God for the magnificent, extravagant welcome that we have all received.

Shameless self-promotion, Lutheran department (w/ note to folks in Washington State, Idaho, Oregon, & British Columbia)

I know, Garrison Keillor says Lutherans don't do self-promotion, and he is right.  But I'm not a Lutheran, only a member of a church in full communion with the ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America)  and the [Lutheran] Church of Sweden who was mentored by several wonderful Lutheran clergymembers.  So I'll self-promote, briefly.

The July-August 2010 issue of Lutheran Woman Today, the magazine of Women of the ELCA, is hot off the press.  The whole issue is about prayer and I have a little article in it about praying in song called, amazingly, "Praying in Song."  It is not available online but I gather a few of the articles appear online the month after the magazine is published on paper.  In any case, you are welcome to contact the editorial offices for a copy of this issue or to subscribe to the magazine.  The folks there are very friendly.


A year from now, I will be one of the workshop and and worship leaders at the Women of the ELCA Triennial Gathering, July 14-16, 2011, in Spokane, Washington.  More on this gathering here. The four principal speakers include another Episcopal woman, the writer Nora Gallagher, Liberian peacemaker Leymah Gbowee (now living and working in Ghana), and two other wonderful women.

If you are in the Spokane area or anywhere in the Pacific Northwest, narrowly or broadly (from Spokane itself to the coast , up and down from British Columbia to Oregon or inland toward Idaho) and are interested in a piggyback speaking engagement (retreat, lecture, workshop, sermon, all of the above) my cross-country round trip to Spokane is already covered so it'll only cost you local transportation, honorarium & lodging, and you can do coalition funding with a cluster of congregations (think "ecumenical collaboration" and/or "regional cluster") or schools or other groups or institutions if your institution's budget is small.  

You can contact my publicist, Amanda Williams, at Ave Maria Press/Sorin Books, the paperback publisher of When in Doubt, Sing: Prayer in Daily Life, who will pass on your message and put you in touch with me, or you can leave me a note in the Comments section below with some contact information.




While most of my speaking engagements these days tend to be related to prayer and spirituality, I also preach, give retreats and days of recollection (a.k.a. "quiet days") and offer reflections on theology, social justice, the relationship between the contemplative life and the work of justice in the world, religion and the environment, feminism and the church, ecumenical and interreligious issues, racial justice and reconciliation in the church, and other topics.

A big thank you to Women of the ELCA for welcoming me to the pages of their magazine and to next year's gathering in Spokane!

Lily season


The first lilies bloomed a while back, but now they are here in full force, just as the hydrangeas are fading.  You can see the Humongous Lawn, as I refer to it on Facebook, in the first picture.  I spend my time mowing. Then again, it burns calories and it beats going to the gym, except for the heat and the bugs.  Speaking of the bugs, who just love me, I think the proper order of things is 1) apply sunscreen, 2) apply bug spray.  For a while I wasn't sure.  But I digress.




I took the three photos above in the bright sun on Sunday after returning from church, sometime after 1:00 p.m.

Yesterday, La Virgencita got some day lilies.  (The first photo is a bit fuzzy.)


Same lilies, close up.  They look Van Gogh-ish in this photo.  They are a much brighter orange in reality.
 

 Here endeth the tour of the day lilies.

Hydrangea catch-up


Good heavens.  I neglected to put up pictures of the hydrangeas when they got really blue.  Though there is one small bush of purple hydrangeas (the color of hydrangeas has to do with the acidity of the soil) the other small bush and the really huge one are both blue, and they went from pale blue (mixed with cream at the core of the flowers when they were just "ripening") to periwinkle.  I took most of the photos with the BlackBerry camera, which distorts the color a bit, so the periwinkle-ness is not obvious, but you can see that the blue is more intense than it was in the first week or too of hydrangea blooming. 

The hydrangea is the only thing I've taken care of this year.  The garden is my landlady's doing and the flowers pop up in due season, one wave after the other.  The hydrangea bushes were full of dead wood --no one had trimmed or pulled it out in years-- so in the late winter or very early spring I got rid of it.  It took a long time and the wood filled about three garbage bins.  I had scratched arms after that, having been attacked by the hydrangeas as I worked.  I now understand why garden ladies garden in long sleeves. The reward was a huge, really huge hydrangea bush, much larger than last year, and even more flowers than last year. Spectacular.

Otherwise, all due credit to the house's owner, to Mother Nature, and to Godde, not necessarily in that order.


 




This is a little purple hydrangea flower after the rain.


In the variegated bouquet below, the middle flower was in fact more blue-purple than the dark blue it appears to be and the right hand flower was more of a dark purple than it appears in the photo.

I'll take photos with a regular camera next time around, but it is handy to have the BBerry in pocket - I just whip it out and click over to the camera function and take a picture.  The camera is especially good with flowers.  It is a little less so with pictures of +Maya and even less so with people pictures, though in a pinch it is helpful to take quick snaps of humans.


I've had flowers next to the Guadalupe candle for weeks now.  Here is Guadalupe with the last of the hydrangeas.



  And this is what some of these flowers looked like as early adolescents.




 And here is the way one looked as a green, unripe baby flower.




Good news re: the Adorable Godson

The Adorable Godson has a job!  Hurrah for him.  It didn't take long for him to find it.  He graduated with his second bachelor's degree in May (physics - the first bachelor's was a couple of years ago with a double major in computer science and math) and received the job offer about a month later.  He will be doing Serious Tech-y Things for an Interesting and Useful Company beginning in July.  The company is in California, so off he goes ten days from now.  I --and we in his little congregation-- will miss him, but we are all very happy for him and proud of him.  

In addition to this, he got a haircut for the job interview (not a short short one, mind you; he has much too beautiful hair to go for a buzz cut, but the hair was a little too much in his eyes and down toward the shoulders to look professional, even for the high tech world) and looks very handsome. 

Of course this is all very first-time-ish and scary too, so we welcome both your prayers of celebration and your prayers for a smooth landing in the world of full-time employment.  I haven't yet asked him whether I can use his real first name here, so for now, you can just pray for Jane's Adorable Godson and Godde will know quite well whom you mean.  Thanks!

Be Right or in Relationship?

Well, I just has a two-week involuntary hiatus, and what happens? Well, essentially, the entire Anglican Communion goes nuts. Meanwhile, my friend Nathan Humphrey tries to urge us all to consider relationship over rightness. As the responses he generates show, rightness is winning the straw poll. I appreciate Nathan's effort to reach both sides, but it seems to me that he's bucking the tide, quite possibly on the Progressive side as well as on the Reasserter. My own views on this is that the level of hostility toward TEC suggests that relationship at this point may not be a viable option, for now. We may need to take a break from each other, and let history--and the Holy Spirit--lead us to the next phase. It's sad to me that this is where we are, but I think the emotions in the air may require a time out. I certainly don't believe we should be the whipping boy for the Communion, but that we should remain always open to reconciliation.

Baptism (Been Busy)

We recently baptized a second daughter in Daytona, Sophia. This picture captures the scene just a few minutes before the procession back to the baptismal font, near the old entrance to the church building.
On the left is my older daughter, adjusting her younger sister's baptismal gown; we're up near the front of the nave, missing a bit of the sermon. They are, in fact, both dressed up for Baptism--my older daughter having some sense of the rite as a re-affirmation. My wife, Susan, is to my right, and a young friend of my older daughter looks on, rather intently curious--this whole deal is not a part of her liturgy where she goes to worship. Further down in the pew, a young fellow whose mother--not visible in this pic--worships at another Episcopal parish sits with a friend of his, who is turning around to say something in hushed tones to his mother, seated behind him. Interestingly, entirely of their own accord, some members of our party refrained from participating in Communion--even some who were baptized. One of these was my oldest daughter, not yet confirmed. But another, old enough and perfectly knowledgeable, was--as best I can tell--carrying out a kind of "conscientious objection".
A couple points here: (1) two children is alot of fascinating work, and we wish we had gotten started earlier, in our twenties, when three or so would have--who knows?--seemed more reasonable. The thirties are fine, mind you, but we are on the verge of "Slow down, junior!", and we would have happily brushed aside much of what we considered precious in grad school if we knew then what we know now. Word to the wise. (2) Communion can be really quite significant for a wide variety of people with different practices of faith, to the point where they feel compelled to take private, and earnestly heartfelt, stands on the practice without discussing or debating them. I wonder how common that kind of reticence is. I would love to have a clearer sense for how the experience of the Baptismal liturgy proper, up at the font, impacted their decisions on Communion, if the experience had a significant impact (I think it most definitely did, but it is difficult to say just what).

Communion Without Baptism....

Assorted minority positions end up finding a voice here: for the ordination of "actively" homosexual bishops, for the blessing of same-sex unions, for the use of natural law theory on the ecclesial "left" (a topic to be pursued here, I hope, in the near future), and for Communion without Baptism. It's not that I like controversy; I would like to think I am open to being refuted. But, strongly suspecting that actual refutation is neither sufficient nor necessary for moving one off a position, I conduct my discussions of these positions from behind the aegis of epistemic humility. However strong an argument I may think I have, I maintain a second order commitment to the possibility of my being wrong. Whether I, or anyone else, moves off a position as a result of argument might be interesting, but is of secondary importance for the most part. Who knows? Something, somehow, may come from pursuing the controversy over Communion without Baptism (CWOB), even if the whole matter has come to feel rather stale.

I.
OK, so where were we? I wrote this piece on CWOB not that long ago, which still seems right to me. In its defense, I address some critical comments made when I posted it.

Rick Allen said "I think the problem is that you infer, from a permitted hope that all may be saved, that we must therefore abandon all efforts directed toward the end of saving." The argument would only call for being permitted not to use, or have used, Baptism on the occasion of Communion toward the end of saving, which is quite a bit weaker than what Allen is worried about.

Paul Gorings wondered if [A4] was supposed to support the contentious [A3](2); I think so. We should hope that God saves everyone, and that is one way of pushing CWOB: the Church can act on that hope by treating even the unbaptized as if they were full members of the body of Christ--now, even when they actually are not in the mere present. I mention in passing that the Eucharist participates in the Eschaton; that is important because it implies that we may act on the hope that the person unbaptized now is not merely unbaptized now, but is now baptized in virtue of his presently participating in the Eschaton. In the Eucharist, the participant's (present) existence is not bounded by what is merely present. Or: presence is not limited in the Eucharist to what you can sense here and now. But you already knew that?

JOHN 2007 said that anything--e.g. "murder", "adultery"--could be put in for "CWOB" in [A1](1), with the result that if my argument were sound, anything goes. He rightly presumes that would go too far--waaaay too far. But wait. Communion is the kind of thing the Lord does at the Eschaton. Granted, we do not know what heaven or teh New Jerusalem, et al, will be like in concrete terms, but Scripture uses feasting to fill in the blank. The Eucharist is like a bit of the eschatological feast here and now. Murder and adultery are not the kinds of activities that we are invited to engage in at the Eschaton, at least in the New Jerusalem. So there is a bar for what can go in for "CWOB" in [A1](1): if it is not the sort of thing that the Lord permits at the Eschaton, forget it.

JimB refers to the canon: it's cut and dried, especially in Central Florida, I might add. True, but two things: (1)the argument only implies a permission to CWOB, not an obligation. A celebrant might well do no wrong in refusing Communion to the unbaptized. (2)In some cases, disobedience might be called for. Personally, I think alot depends on context here--the individual at the rail in a given congregation, within the history of that congregations worship practice. For instance, CWOB might well be wrong in a congrgation that neglects the importance of Baptism, but permissible in a congregation that stresses the importance of Baptism. It may even be the importance of Baptism is such that CWOB should never be practiced outside canonical disobedience--the stakes being that grave all the time. I.e. "Are you prepared to be disciplined for administering communion to this unbaptixed person? If you are not, then you should not administer it."

To Father Haller, I would insist on the eschatological element in Communion. One need not speak a syllable of predestination if one sees the Sacrament as implying participation in the Eschaton; of course, I am rather robust about that, seeing it as involving a "real presence" of sorts. But I think such realism about the eschatological element has traditional and modern theological support, and need not be regarded as a piece of exotic, foreign metaphysics from who knows where.

I thank everyone for taking time to reply. These were all good comments, in my opinion, and trying to respond has been helpful to me.

II.
Then there is the more lengthy reply of Father Olsen, which has also been very helpful. We have gone back and forth a few times on this topic, and I am not sure how much light may come from hashing it out again--full disclosure. You should also read this piece by Father Olsen, which he refers to in his post; it may be where the meat is.

Father Olsen notes "Frankly I’m not clear how this is different from his earlier attempt"--and he is right. It does not differ that much in the formal part, because I am convinced the formal part has not been refuted. I may be at fault in that conviction, and would deeply appreciate someone--even Father Olsen himself--pointing out the flaw.

Granted, he does say

The fundamental flaw remains the same. The Scotist has found himself a practice that he thinks has some merit. So he goes and tries to find a theology that will support it. Is this really the way we proceed?

But, as several of his commenters noted at his site, that is exactly how the Church has proceeded in the past in a number of cases. Practice has quite often come before theology. That cannot be the "fundamental flaw". Indeed, if nothing better can be found, it seems to me the case against CWOB is in very deep trouble indeed.


Anyhow, Churchmouse at his post provides some reasoning against CWOB that I would like to respond to. Churchmouse says

"How can someone believe they are receiving the Presence of Christ Jesus without understanding who He is..." The bar there is too high to do the work intended. Children confirmed cannot in many cases distinguish Nestorianism from Chalcedonian christology, for instance. But if that sort of thing is not meant, then the seemingly required sense can be conveyed in seconds.

"There is a reason young people and converts are baptised and generally catechised...if you don’t understand what Christianity is about, why receive the Sacrament?" Understanding what Christianity is about does not require Baptism or being catechized. The bar there is pretty low, nota. And the odd intellectualism & individuallism.

"Holy Communion is not an all-inclusive meal. We are there not for ourselves but to receive the Sacrament of Our Lord...." The first sentence is dead on; someone opposing my argument would have to say something like what that first sentence says, I think: not all are included in Holy Communion. Now, I would point out that given the eschatological element of the Eucharist, that implies not all will be included among the saved, that some are damned, definitely. That may be true, but I would insist that we are not obligated to believe that, and may act on a contrary hope. Anyhow, Churchmouse hit the main issue here.

"Why are so many of us so willing to overturn hundreds of years of Church teaching to accommodate a few people who come as guests or enquirers?" This, I believe, is a bad point all around. Those few might be precious to the Lord, so much so that he would overturn all sorts of things, even tradition, to recover those errant sheep. It may suit the Lord to let the scales fall from our eyes only now, so that we see in earnest the need to repent an odious element of our practice.

I am not trying to be hard on Churchmouse here; the comments Churchmouse left are important and deserve note at least because--I suspect--many who oppose CWOB do so for some such reasons. Nevertheless, those reasons do not seem decisive.

III.
The meat of Father Olsen's case may rest with his Daily Episcopalian piece on salvation, which has much interest apart from the controversy around CWOB. Go have a look.

I suspect there is something in that piece which he might want to work up at greater length, but I am almost sure that I will get it wrong if I try to work it out into an explicit argument. One major point I agree with wholeheartedly: "Being a Christian is about participating in new life, in divine life, in sharing the very life of God" and not about getting somewhere in the sky after one dies. He says we receive that life in Baptism: "a life hid with Christ in God." This looks like a conditional:

if one lives the new, divine life, then one has been Baptized,

in which case if one has not been baptized, if follows one lacks the essential life of God.

That does get right to the heart of the matter, I think. For Father Olsen, there are two kinds of life (I am guessing here to some extent): biological life, which is subject to decay and death, and divine life, in which we come to participate as Christians. That may be absolutely correct, for all I know, and it is just the sort of premise that he could work into a case against CWOB.

However, I disagree with the premise, though it comes with a pedigree. There are a number of ways in which to mark the disagreement--I am thinking of theologians who deny a secular as opposed to sacred sphere, or who deny the reality of a natural as opposed to supernatural realm. I think one could work up a response on that basis.

But I would like to take a slightly different approach, following the argument I gave in my earlier post. On that argument, the Church is permitted to hope all are saved--that is, that in the end at least all will live the divine life. Inasmuch as the Eucharist has an eschatological element, that implies in the Eucharist the Church is permitted to view the unbaptized as living the divine life, in virtue of the possibility that they may live it at the end. Why? They are not bounded in the rite by how they are in the merely here-and-now. Receiving Christ in his Real Presence, they participate in the Eschaton just as those already baptized. In effect, at least here if anywhere the sacred/secular, natural/supernatural distinctions break down or are shown to be spurious.

One could reply in a number of ways, adopting an anti-realism about the eschatological element or denying the unbaptized could possibly receive Christ in his Real Presence. But those moves each bear a cost. Exactly here, it seems to me, we as a Church are in a very dangerous place, we are standing on Holy ground. Adopting an even worse reply as a way of denying CWOB seems to me so dangerous that it might be better to let the whole thing drop. But then there are those whom I know and cannot forget, and life, even divine life, would not be the same if they could not be brought across the Jordan, even if they were not (yet!) part of the household.

Williams/ Schori

It seems to me that Naughton's take on the latest Anglican dust-up is right:

reflecting on Rowan Williams’ letter wasn’t a worthwhile use of my time; writing it was not a worthwhile use of his....

Who has not, at long last, wearied of these pathetic spectacles? Yet...it is worthwhile even now to recall there are some, Anglican or not, in Nigeria, Uganda and elsewhere who are gay, lesbian, transgendered or bisexual; how we--TEC--respond to Williams, and how we play out the close of this match with the See of Canterbury may well have consequences for them. It is one thing not to be straight in the UK, Canada, or the US, and--it seems--quite another in Nigeria, Uganda, et al.

Williams, it seems to me, will never turn his back on the Global South contingent, regardless of its leadership. He is something of a liberation theologian whose primary loyalty, in theological terms, is to the people of the Global South: marginalized, exploited, crucified. I wager he would like to have TEC demonstrate the same kind of loyalty, a loyalty willing to tolerate extremely costly sacrifice in the name of solidarity with the poor.

He does not seem to consider what has been publicly remarked upon quite often, that his version of solidarity with the poor of the Global South cannot help but marginalize those in the Global South who do not have the requisite degree of straightness. It is not so much a matter of relatively wealthy Americans bearing the brunt of Williams' unity agenda--bad enough, but in Williams' eyes, it seems to me, justified. It is more a matter of his having to scapegoat the GLBT people of the GS, who labor under a compounded oppression.

Pursuing unity--or whatever it is the ABC intends--by scapegoating is contrary to the way of the Cross. TEC should not play into that effort, whatever the stated end. But we have to be very careful; the clean break that could be easy for us to contemplate might well betray our GLBT comrades in the Global South. We should take our stand explicitly with them, come what may--and that may mean enduring humiliations from Williams et al. We should not care; taking a stand with them would be worth it. The Cross calls for no less.

More purple

Consider the lilies

The lilies are out early.








The lilies are actually much more orange than this.  I don't know why the BlackBerry camera lens turns them to peach. It did that when I looked through it, too, so it's not the transmission through the intertubes, it's something lens-ish.

The purple minority

The smallest of the three hydrangea bushes is producing purple blooms this year; the soil composition must have changed.  The blue hydrangeas are more plentiful and bloomed earlier and have now turned from pale blue with cream centers to periwinkle. These purple ones are few, but they are beautiful.  I have a vase of them in the kitchen.

Cross-posted on Facebook.