The Questioning Christian

An illustration of the troubles traditionalists get themselves into by emphasizing doctrinal purity

At TitusOneNine, I read that Robert Duncan has, unusually, has said something with which many moderate- and liberal Episcopalians can agree 100%:

“For those who believe the ordination of women to be a grave error, and for those who believe it scripturally justifiable . . . we should be in mission together until God sorts us out,” said Duncan in last week’s opening address. “It is not perfect, but it is enough.” [Emphasis added.]

Duncan was formerly the bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh; he is now being styled “archbishop” by the new church calling itself the Anglican Church in North America (ACNA).

Duncan was referring specifically to the controversy in his new church over women’s ordination to the priesthood, which some traditionalists steadfastly oppose. In my comment at T19, I said in effect that it was a pity Duncan wouldn’t apply the same standard of mutual tolerance to certain other hotly-contested issues. 

Right on cue (or so it seemed), subsequent commenters promptly provided yet another example of how doctrinal purity so often pushes itself to the forefront of any religious discussion involving traditionalists:

• One commenter, "InChristAlone," wrote that I was failing to distinguish between 'central' issues (presumably including, say, same-sex marriage) and less-important ones like women's ordination:

D.C., you are trying to compare apples and oranges. Women’s ordination is not a central Gospel issue, even those who disagree with W.O. don’t believe that it is, even though it is still an important issue. … [Emphasis added.]

• And then — totally unsurprisingly — another commenter, "stjohnsrector," jumped in to argue just the opposite, namely that women's ordination was indeed a 'central' issue in the church:

I hate to open this can of worms, but many of us Anglicans, and the churches in communion with Rome and Constantinople, believe it is a central issue. …

• A few comments later, "austin" elaborated on why women's ordination was, yes, a central issue:

The ordination of women, for catholics, is of the first order not only because valid sacraments are “generally necessary for salvation,” but also for reasons of authority, tradition, the order of nature, and the reliability of Scripture (in ascending order of importance, perhaps)....

The issue is not going to go away, and it is, in my view, likely to be fatal to the new enterprise if not definitively settled.

[Emphasis added.] 

As it happened, ACNA prudently adopted to a local-option arrangement on the subject of women’s ordination. I stand by my original comment:  What a pity they couldn’t live with the same approach concerning same-sex marriages while they were still in the Episcopal Church. There was no reason we couldn't agree to disagree, and then get back to work, together, to bring more people to God.

Yup, we did indeed ‘steal’ the priestly blessing

At the Episcopal High School baccalaureate service last night, we sat next to longtime friends who are Jewish. Their name is Cohn.  Our bishop coadjutor gave the priestly blessing at the end.  As we were leaving, I turned to the husband and said, “That blessing was your line of work — the family business — right?” He laughed and said “When I heard the blessing, I thought ‘they stole that!’” 

Surprised by joy in liturgy

My liturgical taste could be described as low-church, almost Quaker. I have a fairly strong dislike for pageantry, constant singing, and other fol-de-rol in parish worship. I can't help but think, let's get down to business, get it done, and get back to work. Probably a bad attitude, but that's my reaction.

Last night, though, my wife and I attended our daughter's baccalaureate service at Episcopal High School. The procession — graduates in their caps and gowns, sanctuary party in vestments — was led by a verger. The student choir, also vested, sang much of the liturgy, which was straight-up Evening Prayer right out of the BCP.  (They did a fabulous job.)

To my surprise, I was strangely pleased by the moderately-high-church tone. It wasn't ostentatious, just ... traditional.

Then a possible reason dawned on me. We were sitting next to old friends whose son is also graduating.  They're Jewish. I realized I was glad they were getting to see a traditional Episcopal liturgy, of the kind I'm sure they'd seen before on TV during presidential funerals.  Even more so, I was glad they could participate in much of the service, given that large portions of Evening Prayer are taken straight from the Hebrew Bible a.k.a. the Old Testament.

I very much like that about the Episcopal Church:  Its liturgy asserts the congregation's claim to being an integral part of the people of God, present and past; at the same time, the liturgy serves as the verbal equivalent of the famous street sign, The Episcopal Church Welcomes You.

Choosing a congregation: Whom do I want to bury me?

Rodney Clapp writes in The Christian Century: “A while ago someone suggested to me that the best way to choose a congregation is to ask oneself: Are these the people I want to bury me?”  Blessed be the ties that bind, The Christian Century, May 5, 2009, p.61.

Clapp goes on to compare what he calls the ‘Catholic’ and ‘Protestant’ attitudes toward church membership and commitment.

It’s worth a read.

More Dennis-Canon arguments pro and con

[EDITED 12/12/08] Commenters at the TitusOneNine blog, including your correspondent, are going back and forth with more arguments about the Dennis Canon, about which I posted yesterday. They're worth reading.  Here are three arguments that I particularly like (not all of which are my own <g>):

1. The archival records are missing for a relevant legislative day at General Convention, at which a version of the Dennis Canon, amended by the House of Bishops, was approved by the House of Deputies. (I reviewed the evidence summarized in an affidavit by Fr. George Conger.)  Some argued that there's a sinister reason these records are missing; TitusOneNine commenter Ross responded pithily:

Oh William of Occam, I invoke thee:

Theory 1:  The “Denis” Canon was indeed passed by both houses of General Convention, as required, but various pieces of internal documentation have gone missing in the nearly thirty years since then.

Theory 2:  The “Denis” Canon did not pass both houses, but a conspiracy of officials destroyed the evidence that it did not pass, inserted it into the body of canons as though it had passed, and in nearly thirty years, out of all the hundreds of people who were present at that convention and would have remembered it not passing not one single person noticed this and publicly objected.

Yeah, Bill doesn’t think much of that second theory either.

2. The Episcopal News Service's 1979 post-convention wrapup article, cited by A.S. Haley, didn't mention the Dennis Canon’s adoption. That might well give a court pause.

3. In the end, however, I think a court will rely on the following to conclude that the Dennis Canon should be deemed part of the canons of the Episcopal Church:

• the fact that both houses did indeed approve the substance of the Dennis Canon;
• a summary sheet listing items sent to the print shop for reproduction: One such item was a report by the House of Deputies that (what appears to be) an amendment by the House of Bishops — amending the original resolution D-24 approved by the deputies — was itself approved by the deputies, and that message #204 to that effect was sent to the bishops. The report and message were not in the file, according to Fr. Conger. The mention of a specific message number, 204, lends some verisimilitude to the report;
• the absence of any significant, non-circumstantial evidence that the House of Deputies did not take that later vote approving the bishops' amendment — for example, the Dennis-Canon materials are far from the only papers missing from the archive, according to Fr. Conger, so it's not like the people keeping the records did a first-rate job on everything except the Dennis Canon;
• a presumption of administrative regularity on the part of the Standing Commission on Constitution and Canons in carrying out its assigned duty, under Canon I.1.2(n)(3)(iv), of overseeing the publication of the ‘authorized version’ of TEC’s constitution and canons — which since the 1979 General Convention has included the Dennis Canon; and
• the acquiescence of nine successive General Conventions — without known objection — in the inclusion of the Dennis Canon as part of the official published version of the canons.

Was the Dennis Canon in fact never duly adopted? Here's why a court might not care.

In a property lawsuit between the Episcopal Diocese of Central New York and one of its secessionist groups, evidently the secessionists are claiming that the Dennis Canon — which provides that all parish property is held in trust for the diocese and the national church (see Canon I.7.4-5) — was never duly adopted by General Convention, and therefore isn't controlling. In opposing a motion for summary judgment by the diocese, the secessionists have filed an affidavit by someone who examined the church archives and did not find proof positive one way or another. Some commentators are saying that as a result, the court cannot render summary judgment in favor of the diocese because there are disputed issues of fact that must be tried.

In deciding the Dennis-Canon issue, there's a Gordian-knot approach that the court could easily use to rule summarily in favor of the diocese without a trial:

     • There can be no dispute that for years, the Standing Commission on Constitution and Canons, acting pursuant to Canon I.1.2(n)(3)(iv), has at least implicitly approved inclusion of the Dennis Canon, putatively adopted in 1979, in successive triennial official publications of TEC's constitution and canons. 

     • Since that time, various GCs have approved many other amendments to the church's constitution and canons; perhaps most notable for our purpose, because of its controversial nature, was the 1994 amendment prohibiting discrimination in ordination on the basis of sexual orientation, among other things. 

Why do these facts matter? Because, even when the canons were amended in ways that surely triggered talk of possible secession and property disputes, at no time did any GC deputy or group of deputies ever propose overruling the standing commission (so far as I know, without researching the question) to make it clear that the Dennis Canon was not 'the law' in the Episcopal Church.

Here's an analogy from secular cases: Suppose that: • certain language in a federal statute were susceptible to different interpretations; • for years, the courts have adopted a particular interpretation of the statutory language; and • during that time, Congress has otherwise amended the statute, but has never changed the particular language in question.

In cases like that, the courts will very often reason thusly: If Congress had disapproved of the interpretation adopted by the courts, presumably it would have overruled that interpretation legislatively, while they were enacting other amendments to the statute. Congress has not done so; it follows, therefore, that Congress has implicitly approved the courts' interpretation.

Thus the analogy: Successive General Conventions have amended the constitution and canons in many respects, but have never amended the canons to repudiate the official publication of the Dennis Canon as part of the constitution and canons. This suggests that the Dennis Canon is indeed part of 'the law' of the Episcopal Church.

What if Starbucks marketed like the church?

From Beyond Relevance (hat tip:  Think Christian via The Lead):

Pittsburgh's separatists should be laughed out of court

HYPOTHETICAL: Suppose that: (1) The board of directors of General Motors approves the business plan of the Chevy division to experiment with other technologies such as the Volt hybrid. (2) Many of the workers of the Cadillac division get upset by this decision. They claim GM's board has abandoned The Automotive Faith Once Delivered that automobiles burn gasoline, damnit! (3) These dissidents proclaim that Cadillac is withdrawing from General Motors and temporarily joining the Indian car manufacturer Hindustan Motors [an actual company], under the auspices of the International Association of Automobile Manufacturers [there's no such thing, so far as I know], so that they can continue to build luxury cars the way they're meant to be built.

QUESTION: Who owns the Cadillac factory, the brand rights, the dealership contracts, the buildings and fixtures, the office supplies, etc. — is it the Cadillac dissidents, or General Motors? 

ANSWER: General Motors, of course.  The Cadillac dissidents would be horse-laughed out of court if they claimed Cadillac had ‘seceded’ from GM.  We can stipulate that the Cadillac factories, office buildings, etc. were built largely through the efforts of generations of Cadillac workers and execs. Even so, at best the dissidents would be treated as having constructively resigned en masse. And as with any other resignation, the courts wouldn't let them take so much as a desk stapler with them.

(What the courts would do, and what should happen, are not necessarily the same thing.  See my post from last year, Property ought to go where it can be best used.)

---

I adapted the above from my comments in a discussion thread at TitusOneNine. Another commenter, 'Jeffersonian,' claimed that my hypothetical was inapt because, (supposedly) unlike Pittsburgh, ”GM created Cadillac, owns Cadillac and runs Cadillac.  At no time was there an organization called “Cadillac” that had to petition to join GM.  It never was, is not, and never will be an independent entity.”

Historically, it appears Jeffersonian is wrong: According to Wikipedia, Cadillac was originally founded as an independent company in 1902; it was acquired by General Motors in 1909. 

Even so, Jeffersonian's response nicely supports my hypothetical:  It seems that at no time was there ever an organization called ‘the Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh' until it was created by the General Convention of the Episcopal Church. According to the separatists' Web site, until 1865, western Pennsylvania was simply part of the Episcopal Diocese of Pennsylvania: 

The first known Episcopal clergy resident in this western third of what was then Diocese of Pennsylvania included . . . . [¶¶] For a decade after 1810, Joseph Doddridge, pioneer missionary in our region, wrote letter after letter to the eastern bishops pleading with them to convince General Convention to establish a western diocese. But conservative forces continued to guard oversight of entire states.  The first division finally was set up in 1838 in western New York, but no further divisions took place until the western third of Pennsylvania with its 24 counties became the Diocese of Pittsburgh in 1865. [Bold-faced emphasis added.]

So, contrary to Jeffersonian's argument, the Diocese of Pittsburgh was not a standalone entity that elected to join the Episcopal Church. No, the diocese was a creature of the Episcopal Church from its very beginning.

(Related post:  It matters how an Episcopal diocese came into being.)

It matters how an Episcopal diocese came into being

The Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh's diocesan convention voted yesterday to secede from the Episcopal Church. Many conservative Episcopalians take the view (erroneous, in my judgment) that any Episcopal diocese can secede  According to these folks, a diocese voluntarily 'joins' TEC and can voluntarily withdraw at will.

This view, however, seems to presuppose that a given diocese was formerly an independent, free-standing association or entity that existed outside TEC, and which mutually agreed with TEC to change that status. Think of the Republic of Texas joining the Union in 1845 following nine years as an independent state. (Or as was half-seriously proposed a number of years ago, Canada's Western provinces deciding to become the 51st etc. states of the United States.) 

A handful of Episcopal dioceses may have originated in this way. My guess, however, is that for most dioceses the reality is otherwise. Many Episcopal dioceses originated, not as free-standing churches like the Republic of Texas, but because Episcopalians 'colonized' mission territory as an extension of the existing Episcopal Church, eventually petitioning for full diocesan status in the church.  This would be comparable to, say, the states of Oklahoma, Arizona, and Alaska: If memory serves, each of those states was colonized by Americans as an extension of the United States (I'm not going to get into the rights-of-indigenous-peoples argument here), and later sought and received full statehood status from the Congress.

Ironically, two of the present cases involve the Episcopal dioceses of San Jose and, in all likelihood, Fort Worth.  Each began when it was carved out of an existing diocese by authority of the General Convention. In that regard, these dioceses are like the state of Maine, which was carved out of the existing state of Massachusetts by Congress as part of the Missouri Compromise of 1820.

In the coming months, it will be useful to keep  in mind these distinctions of origin, I think.

Resolved: Most of the church is not Christian

In a discussion at TitusOneNine, I'm being politely asked, between the lines:  If I don't believe the church's teachings about the divinity of Jesus, the Trinity, etc., why am I intruding into the private club of those who do?  In response, I posed this proposition for debate, Oxford Union-style (I've edited it slightly here): 

RESOLVED:  No one may call himself a Christian if he demands more, as a condition of church membership, than doing one’s best to follow the Summary of the Law — Jesus (reportedly) said in Luke 10.25-37, do this and you will live, so to presume to require more than this would be to set one’s self above the Lord.

Another commenter responded: 

Disputed. ... Christianity is based on accepting Jesus as Lord and Savior and belonging to the community of faith—which includes belief in certain key precepts ....

Those who have come to believe those "key precepts" cannot be faulted for where their faculties and their consciences have led them. But I would disavow membership in any “community of faith” that went beyond this, insisting that its answers are the final ones and that those who don’t agree with the party line must either assent anyway or leave. Folks like that are like idolators, pridefully setting up their own conceptions above the reality that God has wrought.  (Hard experience has taught us that we don’t know everything about that reality, and that what we do “know” is necessarily provisional.) Fortunately, most of the Episcopal Church isn’t like that.