What Am I Missing?

The much awaited Pentagon study on Don't Ask Don't Tell has revealed (SHOCK) that the majority of American military personnel are OK with the repeal of the discriminatory policy. The study shows that approximately 70 percent of the troops say they don't think allowing openly gay or lesbian service members to be in the military will compromise our defense forces.

Shocking, I tell you, shocking! People who face possible death and dismemberment in foreign wars being waged on behalf of corporate America are not particularly concerned with the sexual orientation of their fellow soldiers. Well, except for the Marines. According to the survey, 58 percent of Marines are opposed to the repeal of DADT.

So, let's see: polls have shown the American public is done with this discrimination in our military; the President has vowed to repeal DADT after the completion of the survey; the military itself is mostly for the repeal. And yet... and YET... the Republicans in the Senate are threatening to derail the attempt by the lame duck Congress to end DADT.

Why? Because this study didn't have the result they wanted! Well, fellas, if you didn't want them to tell you that gay service members are a non-threat to our national security, then don't ask the military to fill out a survey. That seems simple. So, what am I missing?

Are We People of Faith or People of Fear?

All of us in the No Anglican Covenant Coalition have been looking at the actions at the Church of England's General Synod with equal bits of puzzlement, sadness, annoyance, and ultimately the hopeful resolve that the spirit of God is still with all of us as we muddle our way through this period of Anglican angst.

The Revd. Dr. Lesley Fellows of Lesley's Blog made this keen observation of the Archbishop's opening address:

The Archbishop’s message was clear—be afraid of rejecting the Covenant. It is the only lifeboat in the troubled sea of Anglicanism, and doing nothing or being idealistic is not an option. It is particularly ironic that Dr. Williams painted a picture of a frightening Anglican dystopia should the Covenant fail, as he and other supporters of the Covenant have been quick to accuse Covenant sceptics of “scaremongering.” It is also surprising, both in this speech and in the subsequent debate, that concerns were raised about the decline of the role of the Church of England, as well as references to its being “the mother church” that needs to set an example, whereas Covenant sceptics have been accused of being “Little Englanders.”

You can read our statement at our blog, and see the resources for our positions at our website.

I find it curious that the Archbishop evokes so much fear at a time that I would think calls for much faith.

This whole debate about the Anglican Covenant and all the attending other skirmishes that we've been having in the Anglican Communion seem to have pulled so many of the higher-ups away from their faith and trust in God, and into the place of fear and imposing limits, rules, drafts, black and white lettering of who gets to decide when one isn't Anglican enough to be part of a "covenanted" relationship. Didn't St. Paul's message this past Sunday say to the Romans, "Cast aside darkness and put on an armor of light"? That message is true for us today in the 21st century. We live in a world where we are butting up against those who are different from us all the time. Are we going to turn our faces away from our neighbor so as not to see the light of Christ in their eyes? Do we not trust that God is with us and can lead us through whatever darkness we feel is engulfing us at the moment?
The Anglican Covenant is a way of throwing in the towel and saying, "We can't trust in God that our differences and diversity are a good thing, even when it makes us uncomfortable." It seems to me that it is a lack of faith that drives this engine which is full up on its fear factor. What a way to start the season of Advent! O come, o come Emmanuel and ransom captive Israel....

Porcupines and Prickliness in the Anglican Communion

This sweet tale was sent to me over the weekend. It is called The Fable of the Porcupine:

It was the coldest winter ever... many animals died because of the cold. The porcupines, realizing the situation, decided to group together. This way they covered and protected themselves; but the quills of each one wounded their closest companions even though they gave off heat to each other. After awhile they decided to distance themselves one from the other and they began to die, alone and frozen. So they had to make a choice: either accept the quills of their companions or disappear from the Earth. Wisely, they decided to go back to being together. This way they learned to live with the little wounds that were caused by the close relationship with their companion, but the most important part of it, was the heat that came from the others. This way they were able to survive.

Moral of the story...
The best relationship is not the one that brings together perfect people, but the best is when each individual learns to live with the imperfections of others and can admire the other person's good qualities.

This same moral could apply to our relations among those still willing to entertain a discussion within the Anglican Communion. I'm talking about the non-GAFCON churches, specifically an appeal to our brothers and sisters in Christ in England and elsewhere who complain about the quills of our Episcopalian porcupines. No doubt, each member of the Communion has wounded some other in some way at some time. But none of those needle sticks have been, or should be seen, as so fatal that we can't recognize the Christ in one another. And given the greater needs in a world where people are starving and suffering from man-made and natural disasters, it would serve us well to stop focusing so much on the uncomfortableness of our relationships to see the common purpose and calling that we share.
Really! The world is waiting for Christians to live up to their hype about the good news, and deliver on that message. The world already knows how cold it is outside. Can't we get it together to provide some warmth?

H/T to Diana for the fable and the picture.

Endings into Beginnings

I had a fitful night of sleep last night due in part to animals that wouldn't settle down, and due in part to my mind whirring with what seemed like a dozen or so obsessive thoughts. Some of it was related to the post-Synod Anglican Covenant discussion and considering the road ahead. So much of what we are involved in right now in the life of the Anglican Communion seems so reminiscent of the kind of power struggles and "sibling rivalries" that have been with Christianity from the days of Antioch and Alexandria. And just as those times were marked with councils and arguments and claims of heresy, our times are marked by synods, conventions, arguments and claims of who has left whom.
As I was trying to get to sleep, I saw in my mind's eye a cone of swirling light piercing through the thick darkness of storm clouds and drilling its way into the earth. The word "Trinity" repeated itself and I couldn't keep from seeing how the light remained in a continuous uninterrupted motion spinning from the clouds down to the earth and back up again... with its luminescence spreading out into the edges of the clouds. Perhaps this was like a version of Jacob's ladder. I can't say for sure. But I have seen rings of light before in dreams, and it seems to be a good thing... like a ring of protection.
The readings at the end of this year's daily office and then the readings assigned for the first Sunday in Advent seem to reflect the imagery of this dream. Zechariah offers a warning that any that would wage war against Jerusalem would find their flesh, and their eyes and tongues rotting. This is coupled with Luke's gospel where Jesus is preparing to overturn the tables in the Temple:
As he came near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, ‘If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. Indeed, the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up ramparts around you and surround you, and hem you in on every side. They will crush you to the ground, you and your children within you, and they will not leave within you one stone upon another; because you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God.’--Luke 19: 41-44

Dark clouds are gathering, and Jesus knew this. And he knew, too, that many were about to be caught flat-footed and asleep because they failed to see what was before their eyes. In contrast, as we start Advent and Year A of the Church calendar, we are met by readings that bring us back into that circle of light. The prophet Isaiah calls on his audience to beat their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning hooks. The reading ends, "O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord." The Apostle Paul adds to this by reminding the Romans to "lay aside the works of darkness and put on an armor of light." All sounds good, right? But the evangelist Matthew has Jesus reminding his listeners that its not enough to be happy that things are good. Because, as with Noah, all seemed to be going along quite well as far as everyone was concerned. And then Noah and family... with some chosen pets... got into the ark to survive the flood. This was because Noah was aware and awake. Others were not.


Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour. --Matt 24: 42-44

For me living in the 21st century with our 21st century struggles within the Church, these lines serve as a reminder that when we step outside that swirling light which stretches from heaven to earth and back again, we enter into the darkness that is always on the edge of the light. And when we get trapped outside the light, we are at risk of losing sight of what is good unless we work to focus our eyes, ears, minds and hearts on that source.
We may be coming to the end of relations with some members of the Anglican Communion. Certainly the statement from those in GAFCON, the ones who have been so angry for so long with the United States and Canada, that they don't like the Anglican Covenant either (but for different reasons) means that not even this document can save relations in the Communion. Perhaps it is time for us to fix our eyes on the light and not so much on the storm clouds around the light. Just a thought.

A Great Chasm Is Fixed

Bishop Yellowbelly is back. But he encounters a problem in Miss Youngperson. And there is a great chasm fixed between them. Tsk! Tsk! Tsk! Y'know, a lot of Roman Catholics in the United States have fled to the Episcopal Church. Might we start seeing arrivals from the Church of England, too??

Giving Thanks for To Be

Then you, together with the Levites and the aliens who reside among you, shall celebrate with all the bounty that the Lord your God has given to you and to your house.--Deut. 26:11

The best part to me about Thanksgiving is that it is a holiday where you can eat and drink well and generally just hang with those you love, be it your blood relatives or the chosen family you've made amongst your friends. There is generally an "up tempo" kept by the commotion of cooks in the kitchen creating those culinary delights of turkey, sweet potatoes, greens and other veggies, and of course pie (and that would be apple pie with slices of cheddar cheese, please)!

All to be shared... in the same way that we share at the communion rail. That, too, is a time of thanksgiving. Like the food that we eat at the holiday table, the bread and the wine served at the Eucharist are products of the earth: wheat and grapes. In our belief system, this bounty from the earth becomes the symbolic representation of Christ. We draw together with family and strangers to remember the sacrifice Christ made for us and to give thanks for that love by coming to the table and receiving God into ourselves.

In the gospel lesson, we hear Jesus reminding his followers that the manna their ancestors ate in the wilderness was a gift of God, a banquet provided so that they may not perish, but live on in thankfulness to God.

For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.’ They said to him, ‘Sir, give us this bread always.’ Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.--John 6: 33-35

A biblical literalist might read this passage to say that only through Jesus will one never be hungry or thirsty. That is true for Christians... and it is true only if you believe that Jesus is more than the man, but is also really God. The "I am" statement is one that recalls the conversation Moses has with the burning bush in which we learn that God will be called "I am". And "I am" is the first-person singular of the verb "to be". "To be" is the state of right now, the present, that has both a past and a future but has it's primary focus on the moment. And it is in this "To be" state in which we will never be hungry and never be thirsty. This is the state of God as embodied in Christ.

On this Thanksgiving day, take a moment to pause and to be. Give thanks for the opportunity to have food and drink, friends and family. And give praise for the One who continuously provides us with a banquet out of love and compassion for the world.

Perspective on General Synod

I highly recommend reading MadPriest's analysis of what happened and where do we go from here on the vote taken in the Church of England's General Synod on the Anglican Covenant. As one might have expected, many of the votes made in favor of the reception of the Covenant and sending it along to the dioceses were done with held noses, and covered eyes. In short, there are many in the Church of England who know this document is only going to cause more legalistic nightmares and create needless enemies out of brothers and sisters of Christ. Now that the final draft can be voted on at the more local level, there is a better chance that some will say, "What's all this then?". So, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the other supporters of the Covenant can claim victory for now. But this discussion is definitely not done.
I attended our local interfaith Thanksgiving service last night. A couple of the speakers, an imam and a Buddhist abbot, spoke of seeing trouble and problems as portals to God as opposed to shut and locked doors. This would be the way I am approaching the ongoing months of debate on this Covenant. Time to keep plugging... or blogging... away!