I was not present for the presiding bishop’s opening address to the joint houses of General Convention because I was at the mortuary with my sister making arrangements for the final disposition of my mother’s body. I trust I had my priorities in place. Now that the Mother who bore me thirty-six years ago (this July 20th) in Anaheim, California has been laid to rest, however, I have allowed myself the luxury of turning my gaze upon that part of Mother Church that has gathered in my birthplace. I will not draw out the metaphor by writing that the presiding bishop is a mother figure; I do not think that she herself would express her role that way. But she is being looked to by many as a “midwife” of sorts, and I wonder, what sort of child she is hoping this part of the church will give birth to in Anaheim.
Since I was not there, I must rely upon a report by the Episcopal News Service, entitled, “Presiding Bishop to church: ‘We will fail if we choose business as usual.’” Herewith, some excerpts:
“Crisis is about focusing on the most important and most essential things first,” she told the gathering. “In the tradition that you and I have inherited, crisis response has a lot to do with caring for the most vulnerable—who is sick or hungry or dying or grieving? In the kind of crisis called a disaster, it’s about ensuring that people have food, water, shelter and medical care.”
Recalling the 1976 General Convention that approved women’s ordination, she said, “We’ll hear echoes of our debates in our conversations as this one, as we consider the needs of the poorest around us and inclusion of those who do not have full access to the life of the church.”
“If we want to be faithful we need to be continually rediscovering that my needs are not the only significant ones. We are our sibling’s keepers and their knowers, and we cannot be known without them—we have no meaning, no true existence in isolation. We shall indeed die as we forget or ignore that reality.”
The temptation for deputies and bishops will be to see “one small part of God’s mission” as the overarching reason for the church’s existence, she said. But she added that: “the structures of this church are resources for God’s mission but are not God’s mission in themselves.”
“The budget and the resolutions we debate here should be about those things that affect the whole of this church and the vision of a renewed creation for all of God’s handiwork,” she added.
“This crisis is a decision point—one which may involve suffering,” she said. “But it is our opportunity to choose which direction we’ll go and what we will build.”
“We will fail if we choose business as usual. There will be cross-shaped decisions in our work but if we look faithfully, there will be resurrection as well. This is our moment of judgment, our crisis. We can make our decisions in hope, and we can speak the love of God through this church. And we can do it together.”
The presiding bishop essentially answers the question, “Who are the most vulnerable that are in need of the church’s care in this time of crisis?” by pointing to “the poorest around us and inclusion of those who do not have full access to the life of the church.” Responding to the most vulnerable may entail “cross-shaped decisions,” but any loss we may seem to suffer will be worth it, the presiding bishop appears to be saying, because “there will be resurrection as well.” We therefore should not be afraid to do the right thing as we understand it, since this will indicate that we are making “our decisions in hope” and speaking “the love of God through this church.”
As someone who is concerned about justice for the most vulnerable, I find this call to action compelling. Yet, I can’t help but wonder whether the category of those who are “vulnerable” is as clear-cut as any side in our current crisis would like to make out. We are all vulnerable, ultimately, to hardness of heart towards each other and to putting stumbling blocks in each other’s way. Our individual and collective discipleship is always at stake. The spiritual equivalent of “food, water, shelter and medical care” isn’t affirmation or inclusion or diversity or hospitality or conversion or orthodoxy or morality as ideological litmus tests but the Bread of Life, the Water of Baptism, the Community of the Church, and Pastoral Care (including confession, unction, and that all-inclusive relational “ministry of presence.”) The basic things we need in this crisis are not new rites and new resolutions, but the things that have always sustained us. And yes, these things should sustain all of us, not just a worthy few, either on the right or on the left.
How to do that with integrity is the question. Which is why I appreciate the presiding bishop’s warning that “The temptation for deputies and bishops will be to see ‘one small part of God’s mission’ as the overarching reason for the church’s existence…” What “one small part” was the presiding bishop thinking of? I can think of many examples, on both the left and the right, which seem to be masquerading at the moment as the “main thing” but which, at best, only point to the main thing (that would be the love of Jesus, right?).
I have one major quibble with the presiding bishop’s vision for General Convention as articulated in her address. She said that, “The budget and the resolutions we debate here should be about those things that affect the whole of this church and the vision of a renewed creation for all of God’s handiwork,” but I think “this church” is too narrow a focus. If what we are debating here includes those things that are informed by a “vision of a renewed creation for all of God’s handiwork,” why are they not also informed by a vision of a renewed unity for all of Christ’s Church—not just The Episcopal Church? Why is TEC so global in its vision when addressing certain ecological issues yet so strictly sectarian and denominational when addressing ecclesiological issues?
This is where I think TEC is in danger of failing: in not being ecumenical enough. In mistaking one set of the truly vulnerable (and they are!) for the whole of those who are spiritually vulnerable. Some of us may indeed have fuller access to “this church” right now than others for a variety of reasons. I will not argue the case on either side. I will argue, however, that “this church” needs fuller access to the Church of which it is but a part in order to make coherent the full access that appears to be its defining vision at the moment. The question, of course, is: Is this defining vision only “one small part of God’s mission” that the presiding bishop so presciently warns General Convention from idolizing?
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