I am sitting in one of my little sanctuaries at the University of Kent—a very quiet computer lab on the second floor of a building—on Sunday. In a few hours tomorrow morning, I will God willing be heading home. [I did some editing and added the final section of this article on Tuesday prior to posting.]
For my own clarity, good order, and reflection, and hopefully for readers’ as well, I’d like to offer some thoughts on the Lambeth Conference, as well as some thoughts on the aftermath of the Lambeth Conference, and what the conference will mean for the various players in the Anglican Communion.
General Perspectives on the Lambeth Conference
The Lambeth Conference—what is the pinnacle of ecclesial connection, communion, and tradition for the Anglican Communion and what is considered to be the prize jewel of a bishop’s tenure as diocesan—will be finished, its once-a-decade appearance over, in a few short hours.
Let us recall that back in 2004 and 2005, all the way through into 2008, it was stated by many conservatives that this meeting would be the watershed meeting. After every failure of action at every meeting—[or after every success at a meeting, then later wholesale repudiation]—we were all of us pointed towards that mountaintop of the Anglican Communion—the Lambeth Conference, a great gathering of all the bishops of all the provinces of the Communion, where every race and tongue and culture both would be represented and would represent the author of our salvation, Jesus Christ, within the Anglican tradition.
For that reason, there was immense pressure put on laypeople, clergy, and bishops alike to look towards Lambeth. If we could only get to Lambeth, people said, all would be well. And so . . . for the same reasons, great was the outcry when some bishops stated, prior to Lambeth, “enough—we know the game now, and it is enough.” They would not come to Lambeth.
Those who attempted to convince them to come to Lambeth stated that this would be their final chance to work on the Covenant. I pointed out, along with others, that that was not the case; the Covenant process would drone on for many years, and even if not there would be plenteous opportunities to comment on the Covenant at other touchpoints down through the year remaining after the Lambeth Meeting. After all, there would be further drafts.
Those who attempted to convince bishops to come to Lambeth also stated that this—this meeting—would be the opportunity to deal with the existing schism and division, as well as the heretical actions of TEC. They stated that, though the Covenant dealt with future possible divisions, the Windsor Process was still chugging along, to deal with the current schismatic actions of TEC, and that these would be dealt with decisively at the Lambeth Conference.
It was very clear on all sides amongst conservatives and I think moderate conservatives, that if the Lambeth Conference did not deal decisively and with clarity with the current divisions and the runaway heresies of two of its Provinces, the consequences would be catastrophic.
We are now nearing the end of what has been the occasion of this historic, steeped-in-tradition meeting, set in the birthplace of the Anglican expression of the gospel.
So what are we left with regarding the once-a-decade Lambeth Conference—that pinnacle of ecclesial communion that represents all of the ancient traditions, history, reason, and scripture that best represents the Anglican vision of the gospel?
It has been, to my mind, like a summer camp of 650 young children led by kind but strict camp monitors. The children have had cabin-time, fingerpainting sessions, field trips to interesting sites, sharing time, evening campfires, training classes in horseback riding and canoeing, and of course, arts and crafts. They have also received lessons in manners and listening without interrupting or rude noises. At the end of each day, tired and happy—or increasingly grumpy—the children fall into their beds to sleep a weary but active sleep, and the next day to rise again for another round of cleaning the cabins, horseback riding, arts and crafts, tribe sharing meetings, and of course—work on their common, camp-wide “Reflections document” which all of the parents back home are eagerly awaiting.
General Perspectives on the Reflections Document
Ah yes . . . . The Reflections Document.
Let’s use another metaphor to think through that primary communication from the Lambeth Conference.
That is like a corporate visioning document.
The vice presidents and ceo and directors sit around a long table, preferably with snacks and drinks, and they put up on the white board—their brainstorming board—their “mission, vision, and values.” At the end of that brainstorming session they present the rather lengthy wish list to their employees and state “here is our mission, vision, and values statement—work with these, as you serve our customers.”
Carrying the metaphor slightly backward, imagine if Greg, Jackie, David, Matt, and I hold a “dreams for StandFirm” session that will include all of our goals for StandFirm’s development. I point out that there are not enough audio irecords to go around, and that we need further technological improvements which I eagerly list. Matt points out that every place we stay needs a coffee pot with good coffee—and Greg ups the ante and states that in actuality we need a good decent wet bar. I then remind the group that I am a teetotaler and that we need in fact to affirm my own philosophy of teetotalism as well. We add all of that to our Reflections document. Matt states that he needs to have a gym—and I point out that I have missed important tennis tournaments and that we need subscriptions in all of our rooms to allow for tennis viewing. David mentions the need—the desperate need—for transcribing all audio texts quickly and that sounds like a good idea as well. Jackie mentions our need for professionalism—she suggests a clothing allowance. Matt points out that in fact austerity and poverty are more a value of StandFirm—clearly—and that we need to live into an ethos of ascetism rather than stylishness. Greg agrees with Matt, except where ascetism might mean limited excellent-food supplies. It is important that all of the laborers, he says, receive excellent food, and here he quotes something from scripture about cows trampling grain and receiving nosebags of fine grain, and laborers and hire. We all of us—except for Matt—nod earnestly. We compromise on the matter of ascetism and poverty—Matt will live austerely, while Jackie, Greg, Sarah, and David all select the stylish track—we’ve called those things the A-track and the S-track. This “reflecting” goes on for several days.
Imagine, if you will, the release of this document to you, our readers. This, then, is the vision of StandFirm. We have all listened, and been heard. We have all been open. We have all five of us expressed our feelings and our deepest dreams.
And we have compiled it all for you, so that you may have clarity about the mind of the StandFirm bloggers. This document about teetotalling, wet-bars, ascetism and poverty, as well as the importance of style and material goods, sprinkled with goodly points about technology, is the Reflections Document of the StandFirm blog and we ask our readers to get behind this document and send in your shekels right away.
And imagine the release of the Lambeth Conference’s Reflections Document to our brothers and sisters in the Eastern Orthodox and Roman Catholic churches. For that matter, imagine our friends the Baptists and Presbyterians eagerly opening its rather extensive pages.
They open it—and they read some of the most vacuous, vague, misty-eyed, inherently-contradictory twaddle that I believe that I have ever had the privilege of skimming. Words fail me to describe the void, the barreness, the inanity, the complete absence of matter that exists, boundaried by the edges of that white space and black ink.
Please note this. I’m not complaining about—[no, ashamed of, rather is the correct phrase]—full-blown heresy. A good vigorous blazingly heretical document is unfortunate, but not deeply humiliating. It is sinful and may be the cause of some sackcloth and ashes and lifelong confessions and standing in the snow barefoot outside of the gates, plus further dramas—but not for simply putting a bag over one’s head, slipping a blank cloth cover over my copy of the prayer book, and shuffling off towards the airport to fly back home.
No, it’s the sheer poor writing, miserable use of language, and lack of specificity that would cause both my old writing teachers, and history/theology/philosophy/literature teachers to blanch with horror and fall back upon their couches calling for the salts and the ammonia and the loosened stays.
That’s a mild reaction. Were I to turn in such a document in any class, ever, in any school of higher learning ever, and furthermore even to my parents during my fifth grade homeschooling, the reaction would be FAILURE written across the document, and a serious discussion about my future would then ensue with the authorities of whatever school I was attending.
There is no level of writing, thinking, articulation, theology, or communication of any sort where this document would be considered acceptable.
None. It soars into levels of blankness beyond which I cannot imagine. It is out of my sight or reach of human construct or language. As with Dante’s vision of heaven and the Triune God in The Divine Comedy—only reversed—we cannot imagine the depths to which this document sinks. We gaze after it, as it falls ever downward, and it disappears into the white ether before we can guage the depth.
Furthemore, it stands as an iconographic symbol of the incoherence, chaos, and poor, muddled, grasping ineffectualness of “the Anglican Communion”.
It is, friends, the icon of the Anglican Communion as it stands here and now.
Analysis of the Positives & Negatives from the Lambeth Conference
So we have this summer camp that was the Lambeth Conference, whose principle strategy was the Delphi Technique of preventing anyone from knowing what exactly as a whole the bishops believe or express, with bishops herded and managed into teensy separated-out groups of listening and marking forms with magic markers and smiley faces, and with scribes to manage the expression of beliefs, whose summit, or cavern, is the Reflections Document neatly configured not to let anyone know exactly what in fact the mind of the bishops was, in the midst of which three weeks pranced a horde of insistent revisionist activists beating drums and striving to be multi-cultural and holding demonstrations, coupled with their TEC bishops, who periodically claimed that we didn’t do same-sex blessings and periodically stated that we did ‘em all the time and have for years, who periodically proudly proclaimed their conservatism, to the tittering of listeners, while denouncing conservatism, and who periodically trumpted their open, inclusive philosophy while pointing out that black bishops were beating their wives. On the fringe of the event, indulging in photo-ops and self-absorbed musings, was the Man Who Would Be Noticed, as well as the Poster African Man of the Gay Cause, which poster-man was probably a very very big mistake, but-it’s-too-late-now.
All of the above is merely the stage-setting. After all, if you’ve been reading the StandFirm blog for the past five years, and observing Very Important Anglican Meetings, you already knew what to expect—and five StandFirm bloggers were faithful to point out what was to come in case anyone missed it. Although I had not expected quite the level of both summer campness and blankness at the Lambeth Conference, I am unsurprised at the outcomes.
Let us suppose, though, that the Reflections Document—the thinking of the 650 attendees at Summer Camp and Indabas—is a mere bagatelle, a trivial nothing that will not really be attended to or hold much import. It is possible, I suppose, that that is so. It is possible that the Reflections document will be consigned into the rubbish heap of our practice or thinking—[though not, it must be emphasized, of church history, for I can promise you that it will be prominently displayed in histories forever, down through the centuries, as representative of the communication from the first Lambeth Conference of the 21st century, much to the discomfiture of Anglicans.]
There were some political victories for conservatives at the Lambeth Conference, certainly—but they did not come from the Reflections Document, but rather from The Interpreter of the Reflections Document.
Most of the things that Rowan Williams apparently came into the Conference wanting are good things.
How do we know what he came into the conference wanting?
Why—he stated them in his closing plenary and then fleshed them out further in the final press conference [note that in the below list I have bolded those mentioned in both the Plenary and the Press Conference]. He wanted:
—“moratoria regarding certain new policies and practices” [and he clearly defined in his press conference the differences between his definition of same sex blessings and the TEC progressive definition]
—“a Pastoral Forum to support minorities” [and the wording of whether the Pastoral Forum had to receive permission from the Provinces in order to act was completely changed and weakened between the Fourth Draft and the final document]
—examining “how the Instruments of Communion will best work”
—“a Covenant”
—“a Primates’ Meeting as early as possible in 2009”
—“a clear and detailed specification for the task and composition of a Pastoral Forum” “within the next two months”
—shaping “the implementation of the agenda” with “the perspectives” of the Covenant Design group, the Windsor Continuation Group, and the Lambeth Conference Design Group
—inviting “those absent from Lambeth to be involved in these next stages”
—“building bridges” with GAFCON
For almost three weeks of retreat, indabaing, listening, Reflections drafting, and “we’re-not-voting” assertions, bishops were convinced that nothing all that important would be decided upon, as the process did not allow for that. But . . . on the final day of the entire Conference, in his concluding address and final press conference, the Archbishop of Canterbury asserted what the “consensus” of the bishops was, even though there were no votes and no way to actually know precisely the mind of the bishops! This point was made very clearly by one of the media at the final press conference when he asked how one could tell what the difference was between the Reflections document and “the agenda outlined in the Reflections document.” And of course, one cannot tell—the Archbishop of Canterbury has to tell us that.
So we have a “Reflections Document” that is to have no authority—but an Archbishop of Canterbury that tells us what the agenda of the Reflections Document is, only without any votes from the assembled bishops.
One cannot help but think that there wasn’t much point to the format or process of the Lambeth Conference if Rowan Williams is simply going to state what he would like to have happen at the end of the Conference. I like the things he said was the agenda, no question. But there’s very little way for us to tell without his telling us. The Lambeth Conference, in other words and to make it clear, need never have happened at all for the Archbishop of Canterbury—the only instrument of Communion that has power—to do with those recommendations of the Windsor Continuation Group whatever he decides to do.
There is no way that the progressive activist bishops of The Episcopal Church cannot feel outraged and betrayed over the bald statements of consensus that the ABC articulated in both his final plenary or press conference.
So we are left precisely where we were after the Dar es Salaam communique. Only . . . it is more than a year later, and we are still dependent on the only instrument of the Communion that has any power actually taking actions and making decisions. That has not led to good results in the past.
We are left also with a clear rhetorical defeat for the progressives of TEC—but a clear non-action “victory” for them as well.
So let me state then that I do not think that we can overestimate what this conference will do—the consequences of its nonactions thus far—on the Anglican Communion as a whole. Many many individuals who have been holding on for this final chance—this historic once-a-decade meeting of the Anglican Communion—will leave the church, in many provinces, not just TEC and Canada, most of them probably leaving Anglicanism entirely. There will be now much much more division within the borders of the Anglican Communion. The division and chaos within TEC and Canada will increase and the sounds of strife and the clanging of arms will now greatly escalate. I expect that most conservative bishops flying home to their dioceses in whatever provinces recognize that, and most moderate TEC bishops who may be thinking “well we scraped through that okay, I suppose” will be enlightened as to reality throughout the coming months and years, as individuals and parishes both leave TEC or become engaged in the battle within TEC.
Though I was prepared for this, having closely watched and in some cases attended Anglican meetings, I don’t think for any gospel-believing Anglican the extent of what is the devastating shambles that is this Lambeth Conference has sunk in to our minds and hearts. Although I and most informed others were prepared for this—not the details but the general end result—it is still very sad and disturbing.
Here I need to point out that there will be intense efforts to rehabilitate and promote what has happened at this Lambeth Conference as “a great success” or “the best that could be conceivably hoped for.”
The “best that could conceivably be hoped for” will be stated—now that the Conference is over—as “at least I got them to all talk to each other”. And that, friends, will be the measure of success of this Conference, given how it has ended.
Watch for breathless articles in the press—particularly of course, the UK press, which needs to have the hero be successful in his quest in order to adhere to their story line—about Rowan Happy Among His Books and Family, and How Rowan Gained Peace and Serenity in Triumphing Over the Forces of Schism and Non-Listening, and Why People Talking To Each Other Has Saved The Communion.
That will last just long enough for the inhibitions, departures, depositions, lawsuits, and “incursions” to start up again—perhaps a week or two at the outside—before they’ll be on to new stories. But for now, you’ll just have to endure the breathless stories of Triumph, Unity, Conversations, Risks-Taken-And-Paying-Off, and New Relationships—because that’s all there is.
The only thing that will allow this Lambeth Conference to have been any sort of success is if there is action, not words. Otherwise, it falls into the category of a really ineffectual and really bad, expensive meeting—I believe that it was one Primate who predicted that it would be an “expensive Episcopal jamboree.” That Primate—often mentioned with disfavor by moderates and ComCons—will be proven incorrect only if there is action, which as of yet, has not occurred.
Leaving aside the startling level of dismalness of the Lambeth Conference as well as the interesting turn that the Archbishop of Canterbury gave to “the agenda” of the Reflections Document let us turn to what the consequences of the Lambeth Conference—as it stands now—are for the various groups within the Anglican Communion.
Consequences for the Ideological Revisionist Activists
What does the 2008 Lambeth Conference mean for the various players within the Communion?
I believe that the Lambeth Conference will indeed stand as a watershed event. Much will come of what has happened on this university campus over the past three weeks.
First, I believe that the idealistic revisionists will leave angry, and will leave unfettered.
In the Archbishop of Canterbury’s final address he once again demonstrates just how radically he underestimates the will to power and the anger of the progressive activists when he says this: “Such interventions often imply that nothing within a province, no provision made or pastoral care offered, can be recognizably and adequately Christian; and this is a claim not lightly to be made by any Christian community regarding any other without grave breach of charity.”
Yes, Archbishop Williams, it is certainly a claim not lightly made that no provision made or pastoral care offered by TEC has been recognizably or adequately Christian. But sometimes, one must face reality. With that failure of recognition on the Communion’s part, Archbishop Williams next opines in his final address that “internal pastoral and liturgical care, strengthened by arrangements like the suggested Communion Partners initiative in the USA and the proposed Pastoral Forum” is “the way we should go if we want to avoid further ecclesial confusion.”
Good luck with that. He seriously underestimates just how angry the TEC leaders are, and just how much more “ecclesial confusion” there is to come, since no action came from the Lambeth Conference, as of yet.
Why do I think that the progressive activists are even angrier now than when they arrived at the Lambeth Conference?
From the outside looking in, I can’t help but note that they have spent an enormous amount of money in order to lobby the bishops of the Anglican Communion, and have been pretty strikingly dissed both by the bishops as a whole, and by Rowan Williams in his final plenary and final press conference.
From here on the ground, I believe that those opposed to blessing and proclaiming holy same-gender sexual relations leave solidified in their stance of opposition. They leave nodding their heads and saying “yep—the Bible says it, and judging by what we saw, we can certainly see why.” Of those truly moderate bishops who came with their minds not made up—I’d theorize that they shifted slightly, only not in the direction that the progressive lobby would hope. And those institutional revisionists end up supporting the revisionist gospel as always, of course, but somewhat embarrassed by the spectacle.
So keep this in mind. One-third of the most conservative bishops did not show up. TEC itself fielded one-quarter of the bishops at the Lambeth Conference. And still the progressive activist wing of TEC made no progress in their lobbying results with the remaining bishops. In fact, I think their end-result was a net-loss in regards to changing people’s minds. They changed some of them—but in the wrong direction.
Understand that the progressive lobby won’t spin it that way, of course. But dissed their gospel was, and I’m confident that they know it.
On the other hand, they leave unfettered. It’s home game in TEC—and they own the umpires, the field crew, the stands, the concessions, and more. Angry and unfettered—wild and free as we might say—is going to make for a very very interesting TEC, and General Convention 2009. The end result of the Lambeth Conference is that it leaves the revisionists with zero consequences as of yet from the international communion. And with ten years before another Lambeth Conference.
Consequences for the Institutional Revisionists
What about the institutional revisionists—the ones who wished so desperately that the idealistic revisionists would be a little quieter and a little more tasteful—the ones that sometimes lie awake in their beds of an early morning thinking that it might have been “the wrong time” to consecrate a non-celibate gay bishop because it woke up so so so many more than they had ever dreamed.
My sense is that some of them at least go home chastened, and some go home angry. The chastened ones have survived Lambeth, but they do have a sense that this isn’t going to go away, and that a little more schmoozing and time will not make it so. You’ll hear, in their diocesan letters, plenty of burbling about “frank open conversations” and “deeper connections” which “will take time” but at the same time “we’ve built new relationships.” But I also think that those same people, where once they had thought that same-sex blessings might be a great idea, will now take a step back from that stance. Think here of some of the newer bishops of revisionist diocese—I could list a good ten or so in this group.
Some other institutional revisionists who leave angry at how much TEC was blamed for the Anglican Communion’s problems will feel freer—no need to think of Lambeth or consequences again—and will head further to the left, towards the idealistic revisionist camp.
To survey the field from afar and above, you’ll see 1) more same sex blessings in more dioceses, 2) some dioceses stepping back from that precipice in a very gingerly and quiet manner, 3) a greater divide between the institutional revisionists and the idealistic revisionists, and 4) all of this playing out at General Convention 2009.
The Consequences for Conservative Anglican Bishops
There’s another group that will be greatly blessed by the striking, er . . . clarity of non-action that came from the Lambeth Conference thus far. When any organization’s discipline fails so dramatically, new organizations and groupings and networks and connections will occur.
My sense is that the conservative bishops on all sides who have been through this Lambeth Conference have been greatly united in misery. I have seen them working together, communicating together, and growing closer together. I see them collaborating more with one another then before—and I see that fantastic connections have been made with hitherto unnoticed bishops from various provinces. Think back through the last three weeks and some unlikely heroes have arisen on our side. We have the bishops of the Sudan. We have the Primate of Hong Kong. We have [though this was perhaps not unlikely or unforseen] the Primate of the Middle East and Jerusalem. We have the Primates of the churches in India and Pakistan. Most of those were quite surprising to me. We also have plenty of bishops speaking out and telling the truth, both in TEC and out of TEC—Iker, Howe, Love, Lawrence, Miller, Ellena. How many of those bishops would you have guessed prior to the start of Lambeth? For that matter, what percentage of these had you actually read even one thing from or about?
I believe that all of this new-found unity—if it holds—can help both the GAFCON group and internal TEC groups. It appears to me that if GAFCON proceeds calmly, wisely, and methodically—something that it is not always known for—and with more unity among other GS Primates, that it will gather more Primates who have endured the bizarre summer camp of Lambeth. I don’t think such a shift will be immediate—but I think it will be slow and sure, again if GAFCON does not act imprudently or arrogantly.
Oddly enough I don’t think the effects of this meeting will result in a rush towards Common Cause/GAFCON by those internal to TEC. But I’m not certain that really matters. The alliances that were formed are what is important—not necessarily who is where. I believe that both sides are more aware of each other’s intentions and tactics. They may not agree with all of those goals or tactics, but the common vision and mission is a unifying force.
The Consequences for Conservative Episcopalians
This brings me to the group that is near and dear to my heart—we band of brothers within The Episcopal Church who are committed to standing within this place and, for varying reasons of theology, ecclesiology, caution and concern, or pragmatic needs with families, have not chosen to join an alternate Anglican entity.
What is our duty, what is our plan, and what are our challenges?
First, let me mention an example from my own life as a launching off point for thinking about where we are.
Back in my late 20s I went to a month-long primitive survival school out in the desert of Southern Utah. One of the aspects of that time were various phases of the quest for survival, including an unstated period in which one went without food of any sort, had very very little water, and walked late into the night in order to get somewhere, where we knew not. Drinking water from a much mired very small hole in the ground was good practice for that experience, along with sleeping on a rock with very little clothing and no blanket, and awakening with a white frost on the ground. On the third day, as we continued the march, one young man was sick much of the time as he walked, and others were groaning. The only reason why I was not doing either was I suspect because I was bent on calling out to the young man to keep going. “You can do it” I kept saying—“we’ll get there” and “you’re doing great.”
This is not my normal posture—I’m not usually considered a cheerleader. But the rule of that school was that if you quit—you walked out of the desert on your own. They would point you in the right direction, and you would walk out to the highway and pick up a ride. It was, in fact, quite vital for him that he continue on through this phase, that he make it.
That afternoon on the third day we stopped in the glaring heat of the desert and gathered in a circle. The primary leader sat there, and some of the rest of the teachers or guides slowly passed around to each of us one half of a banana and a small cup of gatorade. They cautioned us not to drink or eat too fast because of the heat and the fast. They then solemnly announced to the wretched groaning crew that that phase had ended.
It was over.
The effect of the formal pronouncement of that phase being over was almost instantaneous. Those who had declared that they were on their last legs, and not going to survive, bounced around, laughed, high-fived, and generally scampered about the desert. The simple pronouncement of the end of that phase, and the formal ritual of food and drink, lifted everyone’s hearts.
It was then rightly pointed out, after a few minutes, that in fact our feelings that we could not go on and that we were going to die in the desert or become seriously ill were false.
We had not been going to die, or collapse, or become ill. We certainly could go another step, as we then proved, and the whole notion that things were absolutely extravagantly and inhumanely bad was in fact wrong. Our minds had been deceiving ourselves, and the truth of that had been proven by our near instantaneous revival, excitement, relief, and energy once it was announced that the recent bad patch had been merely a bad patch.
That moment, for me, was a life lesson, and one which I have not forgotten throughout many personal, vocational, and yes, ecclesial struggles. Things are really bad, I learned, when if it is announced that the recent horrible phase is over and that a lovely new phase filled with a minimal count of calories and sufficient water has arrived, all you do is lie there and stare vacantly at the blank wall.
That’s the example of real hopelessness and despair—and anybody that has lived life at all knows that there are in fact people who, when the horror ends, lie there and stare vacantly at the blank wall. At that point, the pastoral EMS needs to be called out and friends need to spring into action because the situation is dire.
But things are not actually so so so terribly bad if, when after it is announced that a bad patch is now over, people leap about and start chattering and laughing and high-fiving, anticipating the future and planning for a party.
Though it sounds cold and cruel of me—and though I certainly feel tired and bad [in more ways than one]—I will put it to you that, were an announcement to come out of something lovely that signalled the end of this “very bad patch” within the Anglican Communion we would all be amazingly revived and shockingly sprightly.
Understand that I don’t believe that will happen—I believe that this bad patch will go on for a while, and that we are fortunate to live in an amazing time of conflict, adventure, friendships gained and alliances formed, learning, action, and training for future service in other venues.
But acknowledging how quickly a tide or wind can turn is good for the soul and an exercise that we need to frequently observe in the midst of the Anglican Wars.
Principles for the Next Phase for Episcopal Conservatives
With that being said, what can an Anglican within TEC who has no place to go—he or she has examined and rejected the Baptists, various other mainline churches, various splinters from mainline churches, Rome, Orthodoxy, and the alternate Anglican entities—actually accomplish as an Anglican within TEC, now that the historic, once-every-decade Lambeth Conference has come and gone?
I have several principles to articulate, and then some concrete actions to recommend. My hope is that these thoughts will help me to focus, and also help those not only in TEC but also in other troubled provinces in the West—Ireland, Wales, and Scotland, for instance—to think through how they must move through the Post-Lambeth Anglican world.
First, we must recognize that the efforts to restrain the runaway stagecoach in which we reside—our province called TEC—on an international or national level have failed thus far, and look likely to fail further.
That does not leave out the possibility of help from elsewhere, but such help is quite unpredictable and essentially un-plannable.
That also does not mean that all people should ignore all international and national structures—but certainly our focus should not be there.
Second, what that means is that the more the Anglican Communion fractures and divides—the more the distances increase amongst the various warring factions holding different gospels—the more emphasis and focus will rightly accrue to the local, the congregational, and the regional.
It means that parishes and dioceses—or groups of laypeople and regional gatherings—become the area of focus and work.
A part of this natural focus is because we can simply effect change and renewal and reform in those places. Our efforts can yield results in many dioceses and parishes, either for strengthening the communication of the gospel in traditional places, reforming the communication of the gospel in weak places, or heightening the contrast of the two gospels—what Kendall Harmon calls differentiation—in corrupt, heretical places.
But no matter the context—strong, weak, or corrupt parishes or dioceses—the local, congregational focus and emphasis perforce is heightened greatly in the chaos and division that is to come.
Think of it a little like the ebb and flow of the small kingdoms in mediaeval Europe. As kingdoms fell or divided or shattered or formed new alliances, the focus on one’s own castle and town—the strengthening of the walls, the widening of the moat, the setting up of emergency signalling mechanisms, the oiling of the portcullises, the building of one’s army, the laying in of supplies—grows.
Think of your parish, or your diocese, or your networking group as a small castle in a world of chaos. And do what you can to build it and strengthen it, or to differentiate it from the worthy opponents surrounding you.
It is from that base of strength that new initiatives may spring. As a friend of mine shared with me, we must do the small things well while we wait for the larger events and the turns of tide and wind.
The third principle that I am working with is that there will be little further change on the international front and little prospect for pulling back together the various shards of the Communion while Rowan Williams still occupies the see of Canterbury. Please note carefully that I’m not blaming him for this conference or for other failures of the Communion as a whole—I don’t really believe that the blame lies on merely one person.
Nor do I necessarily know that a new occupant of the see of Canterbury would be able to pull the shards back together again.
Nor do I believe that the see of Canterbury is “irrelevant” or “unimportant.”
I merely say, as a statement of belief, that while Rowan Williams is the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Communion will essentially be in a “holding pattern” of increasing fragmentation and distancing among various groups. The trust that has been lost and continues to be lost prevents renewed closeness and connection as a whole within the Anglican Communion. It is sad, and I don’t like it. But it is what it is, and we need to understand and accept that as reality and work within that reality, or move on and join another denomination. That applies, actually, to those Primates and bishops of the Anglican Communion as well who are associated with GAFCON.
The fact is that no action has occurred that will cause the Anglican Communion to step back from the brink of fragmentation. There have been words—but no action as of yet—and I see nothing that causes me to believe that this time Rowan Williams will do the hard things necessary to call the Anglican Communion back.
The thing to do is to make the best of how things are now and work within how things are now, doing the small things well within our parishes and dioceses, while waiting for a turn of the tide and winds on the international front, if that turn is to come. If that turn never comes, then the Anglican Communion will continue to whirl apart—the center not only did not hold but it will continue not to hold. And thus, the Anglican Communion will continue to further fragment until all but the bare bones of the structure remain.
Of course, if that is to happen, we certainly will not have been hindered or damaged by doing the small things with great love and attentiveness. It will simply be done while in the midst of living out the consequences of the lack of discipline within the Anglican Communion.
Kendall Harmon uses the metaphor of judgement to talk about a very similar theme. No matter what, he has stated, Anglicans who are Anglicans will either go to Babylon or stay in Jerusalem—and neither place is all that pleasant, and comfortable. But in both places, Anglicans must do their duty—they must do seemingly mundane things like build their families, bless the place they are in, and plant olive trees, even in the midst of judgement.
Of the Old Testament books I have preferred the book of Nehemiah. One enters the rubble of the landscape, surrounded by enemies and angry fellow citizens and very loud naysayers, and one sets about to rebuilding walls of the pulverized city with a sword in one hand and a trowel in another.
Fourth, allies and friendships are important, and growing more so.
One of the things that so many conservatives at this conference mentioned was how fantastic it was to meet fellow conservatives in so many provinces. The Communion is a conservative place—and the bishops that I met mopped up on fellow conservative relationships and new alliances. We’ve all gotten good at networking—and I got better these last two weeks. The people that I met I hope to remain in contact with—and I’m betting that for all of us those new alliances will bring great fruit and encouragement. As the Communion continues to fragment, the divisions broaden, and positions harden, networks and alliances will continue to expand. That’s what happens in a chaotic, unstable structure—and the Communion is very chaotic, very unstable now.
Think again of the small castle in the midst of mediaeval Europe, in a sea of shifting powers and wars and political stratagems. As important as building up the strength of the castle and army is, it is just as important to build alliances in such a chaotic and unstable environment. The Anglican Communion is currently inherently unstable and often destructive. Don’t underestimate the power of companionship and friendship and alliance.
A Few Suggested Actions for Those Remaining in TEC
1) Every diocese in TEC should have a formal organizational structure of traditional laypeople. Much of that work has been done in an estimated 50 or so dioceses. But it’s frightening that this has not happened in every single diocese. It doesn’t matter if you are in a traditional, moderate, or revisionist diocese, such a group is of paramount importance if you are to remain within TEC. In a traditional diocese, you need such a group to strengthen your dioceses’ borders and maintain what you already have—for it can be taken from you in an instant. In a moderate diocese, you need such a group to reform or renew your diocese. And in a revisionist diocese you need such a group to challenge the ruling voice in the diocese, as well as strikingly and publicly dissent and differentiate yourself from the dioceses’ official gospel. I will be opening a thread later about this subject.
2) Work to strengthen parishes first, including your own. I like to look at three areas of a parish: its leadership [vestry, delegates, clergy, etc.], the level of information that the laity have pursued and acquired about the challenges confronting TEC and the Anglican Communion, and the spiritual formation and strength of the parish. Often, a parish may be strong in one or two areas and weak in another. Sometimes a parish may be weak in all three areas. If you are in one of those parishes that is strong in all three areas, be grateful—then think about how you might further strengthen its walls, as well as how you might export what you’ve done to other parishes in your diocese, through information companionship relationships.
Often, a conservative parish is [surprisingly] weak in the latter area. It is often strong in leadership, strong in informed parishioners [at least comparatively speaking], but weak in spiritual formation and discipling. Rector after rector around the states has mentioned that to me. It is easier for them to inform their parishioners, and to cultivate strong leadership—much more difficult to do the deep spade work that leads to spiritually formed parishioners who are solid even after rectors come and go. Laypeople need to be helping in this effort—and sometimes have to do so without the help of their clergy! So if you’re involved in that kind of parish, be thankful for what you have. After all, you could be in a parish that has no good lay leadership, no informed parishioners, and is spiritually enervated and demoralized. But you will need to work as a leader [and if you are reading this blog as a conservative Episcopal layperson, then you are already a leader], carefully analyse your fellow laypeople as a whole, and become quite imaginative and creative about how you can help the parish to grow spiritually.
I’m creating an open thread for ideas on actions that laypeople can take to help renew the spiritual formation of their parishes. Hosts of ideas come to mind, depending on the areas of greatest weakness and need. Parishes may want to look at Alpha or Faith Alive, work on spiritual disciplines, Bible studies, even apologetics [Ravi Zacharias springs to mind!], or work on the development of and ethos of witness and evangelism parish-wide. I’m hopeful too that Matt can offer a short series on suggestions for spiritual renewal of parishes, since it appears to me that he is an expert on this subject.
3) Consider this time of challenge within an unknown future within a hostile national entity a time of immense spiritual discipline—and cultivate the Christian spiritual disciplines, since this is what we’ll need to emphasize over the coming months and years. This is a long, difficult battle. While it’s true that Anglicans could leave TEC and join a non-Anglican church—you would still be at heart an Anglican-in-a-strange-land. While it’s true that Anglicans can leave TEC and join an alternate Anglican entity, you will still be in a very uncertain future, with new struggles, and with some very serious challenges. As I noted from Kendall above, you’ll either be in Babylon or in Jerusalem, and either way it’s judgement and cannot be escaped.
Since that is the case, the “planting of olive trees” also applies to your own spiritual growth and character development. This is a hard time—and you may as well grow if you have to live through it. You may not be successful at anything you try within the Anglican world, but God assures us that through His Holy Spirit working in us towards sanctification, we will be successful in slowly growing in strength, and grace, and truth.
In a little while, I’ll be getting up from this computer—it is now Tuesday afternoon—and I’ll be taking my dog and my Bible out to the woods for a while. I need to thank God for what He has brought me through in the past two weeks, and indeed the past five years. I need to carefully seek wise discernment as to my path forward. I need to rest and find refreshment and seek God’s face.
We are in a new phase, and we need to prepare spiritually for that new phase. With that in mind, I also hope to spend some time on a retreat, and seek out my spiritual director.
All of those things are possible actions that each of us may take as we work through the passing of the Lambeth Conference and our entrance into a new phase of struggle and conflict.
4) Go hang out with your friends. Throughout my flight home I kept thinking of my friends and allies back at home—in my parish, in my diocese, and elsewhere. Friends are sharpening, and comforting. They help you process events and news, and offer advice, and keep you stable. The more you work with your friends, the more you and they grow.
So I hope to set aside time to get together with my friends—to plan and work together, to encourage one another, to even watch movies together and eat together. That is a source of great renewal and encouragement.
It’s been odd too. Not all allies become friends. But there is strength and honor in alliances—and when allies become more than simply working partners, it is all the sweeter. That is why I am so grateful for God putting me in the way of the StandFirm bloggers, Greg, Matt, Jackie, and David. It was miraculous that we found one another and beyond finding one another, have so much that both differentiates us and brings us together. It’s truly miraculous that after now years of laboring, arguing, planning, failing, triumphing, scraping up funds, writing, and skyping, we know and like one another more than when we started all of this.
My hope is that God will bring you to such allies and friends wherever you may be.
99 Comments •
Thank you for this and your most excellent reports from the scene. But Sarah, are you really a teetotaler and an Episcopalian? Whats up with that? Anyway, as is your custom, you have given us all much to think about. Again thanks.
Rob