The
House of Bishops of the Episcopal Church voted overwhelmingly to
overturn a three-year moratorium on the election of lesbian, gay,
bisexual, transgender and queers to the episcopate.
While
many LGBTQ Episcopalians and their allies are jumping for joy, the
battle isn’t over. But the Archbishop of Canterbury Dr Rowan Williams
expressed his concerns about the recent vote telling the Associated
Press "I regret the fact that there is no will to observe the
moratorium in such a significant part of the church in North America."
The
conservative arm of the Episcopal Church suggests that the openly-gay
Bishop of New Hampshire, the Rev. V. Gene Robinson, should resign
to avoid disintegration of the Anglican Communion.
But
is the Episcopal Church's impeding schism really about the theological
rift that sprung up after the consecration of its first openly-gay
bishop?
Or,
is the brouhaha really about a church in battle with itself about
how to be financially solvent and theologically relevant in today's
competitive religious marketplace?
And
those who argue about the “authority of Scripture” doesn’t hold
weight here because the Episcopal Church has always been challenged
on this issue.
For
example, in the 1970s, the argument for authority of Scripture came
up with the ordination of women – and so, too, did the threat of
a schism. But in 1989, the Church consecrated its first female bishop
– Barbara C. Harris. And conservatives were not only theologically
outraged, but also racially challenged because Harris is African
American.
And
in 2006, gasps of both exhilaration and exasperation reverberated
throughout the Anglican Communion when it was announced that Katharine
Jefferts Schori would be the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church
USA.
All
this is no surprise, however, since the Episcopal Church has a history
of taking the moral high ground on social justice issues.
On
the theological rift concerning American slavery, the Episcopal
Church rebuked the Bible’s literal interpretation, arguing that
slavery violated the spirit of the Bible.
Boston's
Old North Church, which played an active role in the American Revolution,
served as a beacon for Paul Revere’s “midnight ride.”
The
Emmanuel Episcopal Church in Cumberland, Md., was a major stop on
the Underground Railroad.
While
many would like to believe that secessionist congregations battling
with liberal bishops endorsing "sodomy" brought on the
financial crisis in the Episcopal Church, the church's coffers were
bare prior to Robinson’s consecration.
And
the reason?
Decline
in its membership over four decades; the rise of its Third World
bishops from countries in Africa, South America, and Asia; and its
egregious act of inhospitality and exclusion of its LGBTQ population.
The
tension that currently exists inside the worldwide Anglican Communion
is undeniable. But what many don't realize is that it is as much
about how its unforeseen legacy of unbridled missionary efforts
expanded into the Third World as it is about the conservative arm
of the Church repudiating homosexuality.
But
the two feed off each other with Robinson since his consecration
being the Church's scapegoat.
By
pitting marginalized groups like gays and Africans against each
other, the Church masks the geopolitics of race and power while
bating homophobia.
Does
this scenario sound familiar?
When
the liberal wing of the ECUSA consecrated Robinson, the Anglican's
Global South - comprised mostly of Third World countries in Africa,
South America, and Asia - did not embrace the Church's radical shift
from a religion of personal transformation to a faith of personal
affirmation. For the Global South, that shift raised not only questions
about theological belief, but also about their ecclesiastical power
within the Church.
With
centuries of Anglican missionaries traversing worldwide into the
hinterlands and jungles of Third World countries to transform heathens
of indigenous religions and fertility cult practices into good Christians,
its globetrotting evangelizing carried not only racist and homophobic
messages that had strong theological holds on its colonial subjects,
but it also brought the notion of power to disenfranchised countries
that wanted in the Anglican ecclesiastical fiefdom.
One
sign of entry is an invitation to Lambeth conferences. They are
once-a-decade global gatherings of Anglican archbishops and bishops
that once upon a time functioned as the Church's only white male
club of heterosexual power brokers. They ignored, without moral
compunction, its missionary churches. But things changed. And when
they did, they changed not only radically but also racially.
"In
10 years, when African bishops come to the microphone at this conference,
we will be so numerous and influential that you will have to recognize
us," said Joseph Adetiloye, a retired official with the church
in Nigeria, at the 1978 Lambeth Conference, according to The New
Yorker.
While
the U.S has, at best, approximately 2.2 Episcopalians today, the
center of Anglican gravity is neither here nor in Britain, but in
Africa. There are approximately three million in Kenya, and nine
million in Uganda. But those two countries combined do not come
close to the 20 million in Nigeria, making Peter Akinola, the archbishop
there, one of the most influential men in the Anglican Communion.
A
vociferous opponent of LGBTQ civil rights, Akinola has used Robinson
as his whipping boy to flex his muscle as a sign of African power
in the Anglican Church as well as to expand his missionary power
by capitalizing on the theological schism that has developed.
Robinson
is now a lone voice in the wilderness among bishops. And it's also
a way for the Church to avoid addressing its heterosexism head on.
I
remember the preacher at Robinson's consecration. He was the Rt.
Rev. Douglas E. Theuner who was succeeded by Robinson. Theuner preached
about the necessary shift that must take place in the church in
order for it to be inclusive of all people, not just with LGBTQ
people. He said:
"When
we attempt to bring the margins into the center, we necessarily
push the center to the margins. If Canterbury or New York, for
instance, wishes to help Nigeria or West Indies move toward the
center, then for everyone to continue to occupy the space available,
Canterbury and New York must willing move toward the margin. We
who have been in the center don't like moving to the margin, event
to different places on it, but we must do that if we're gong to
affirm the marginalized. That was the thrust of our Lord's ministry
. . . Welcome to the life where Jesus lived it . . . on the margin!”
For
me, the joy in this moment in the history of the Episcopal Church
is that it crawls toward inclusiveness, albeit haltingly and in
spite of opposition.
And
for those of us on the margins in our churches and faith communities
we need to see the principle of love in action.
The
House of Bishops has voted. And let the Episcopal Church say Amen.
BlackCommentator.com
Editorial Board member, the Rev. Irene Monroe, is a religion columnist,
theologian, and public speaker. A native of Brooklyn, Rev. Monroe
is a graduate from Wellesley College and Union Theological Seminary
at Columbia University, and served as a pastor at an African-American
church before coming to Harvard Divinity School for her doctorate
as a Ford Fellow. Reverend Monroe is the author of Let Your Light Shine Like a Rainbow Always:
Meditations on Bible Prayers for Not-So-Everyday Moments.
As an African American feminist theologian, she speaks for a sector
of society that is frequently invisible. Her website is irenemonroe.com.
Click here
to contact the Rev. Monroe. |