What does being "in communion" mean, and how much is it really worth?

One of the root causes of The Current Disputes in the Anglican Communion is that we don't seem to agree on what it means to be "in communion." Worse, we don't even rationally explore the concept, or what trade-offs we're willing to accept to stay in communion. Instead, we just hurl anathemas at each other.

"Communion" can't mean "mutual submission" (not now)

Some think communion is a relationship of "mutual submission." But that's a pie-in-the-sky concept. It's not workable unless we can agree on rules for those occasions when simple mutual submission doesn't happen. Otherwise, we'll sometimes find ourselves giving in to whoever is the most implacable, whoever "needs" the relationship the least. 

Perhaps the Anglican Covenant drafting process will come up with some rules for this kind of situation that we can all agree to, and — more importantly — that everyone will in fact follow even when they don't like the results. (Personally, I'm not holding my breath.)

Communion does seem to entail a certain level of mutual acceptance, as with extended family

When my wife and I have attended services at CofE churches while traveling, it's been great to be accepted by the locals as "one of us." And on the occasions when we've hosted CofE people, they've automatically been "part of the family." 

(I've written before how I tend to think of "communion" as something like an extended-family relationship.)

But how much is that automatic acceptance worth? At what point does the cost become too much?

Communion isn't worth surrendering to bullies

• Suppose hypothetically that, at my maternal extended family's reunion next month, some of my cousins were to tell my wife and me that they gravely disapproved of our "letting" our son wear a beard and our daughter wear shorts. 

[I'm using a ridiculous example to illustrate the point. And my cousins wouldn't do this sort of thing anyway.]

[Another possible hypothetical example comes to mind: Almost everyone on my side of the family has blue eyes; I could hypothesize that some of my cousins demanded that my brown-eyed wife and kids wear tinted contact lenses, so that they'd "fit in" with the rest of the family. But that would surely lead to a satellite argument about whether or not homosexuality is genetic, like eye color, and we don't need that distraction here.]

My wife and I would certainly listen carefully to what those cousins had to say about our kids' sartorial habits. We don't claim to know everything, and sometimes what we think we know turns out to be wrong. 

• But now suppose that particular subset of cousins were to say to us, in no uncertain terms: "You either make your son shave, and your daughter stop wearing shorts, or you'll no longer be welcome at family reunions." 

[Our kids are both older teenagers, so naturally our ability to "control" them is not what it once was.]

I can't speak for my wife, but my response would be "I don't think so, guys; you worry about your own families, and leave ours to us." I'm not that fond of my son's beard, and sometimes my daughter's shorts are shorter than I'd like, but so far neither issue has been worth making a federal case about it.

• Now suppose those particular cousins declared: "If you don't make your kids change their sartorial ways — or kick them out of the house if they refuse — then we will no longer come to any family reunions where you're there."   

My response would be "we'll certainly miss you." 

• Finally, suppose some of the rest of the cousins agreed with my wife and me, but blamed us for not giving in so that we could all continue to enjoy our family vacations together.

My response to them would be "we're sorry it has to come to this, but our kids and their freedom are more important to us than our family vacations — especially if those vacations are now going to be dominated by bullies."

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ADDED AS AN AFTERTHOUGHT: Let's change the hypothetical a little: Suppose that these particular cousins weren't objecting to our son's beard or our daughter's shorts. Suppose instead:

• that one of the kids was living with a fiancé(e) or other long-term partner without benefit of clergy, as they used to say [neither of our kids is doing so, but at least two of our younger relatives are];
• that my wife and I did not approve of the arrangement, and had made that known, but, in what we judged to be the long-term best interest of the family, we had welcomed the partner in our home anyway when the couple visited us [we've done pretty much just that with the two younger relatives and their partners]; and
• that was why my cousins were telling my wife and me we were no longer welcome at family reunions.

My response would be the same: You worry about your own family, Cuz, and let us deal with ours.

From where I sit, that's pretty much how The Current Disputes in the Anglican Communion look.