A Schism Averted?
A Reflection by Harvey Cox
Once again, the Episcopal Church has diffused a major crisis in --
there's only one way to put it -- a very Episcopalian way.
By confirming Bishop Gene Robinson, a gay man, the Episcopal Church has
done the other denominations a great favor. It has boldly stood up to a
difficult issue, and the signs are good that it will avoid a major schism
-- and not for the first time.
The Episcopalian record is encouraging. When Baptists and Methodists and
Presbyterians split into northern and southern contingents over slavery
in the 19th century, the Episcopalian church did not. When some
Episcopalians quoted "Let women keep silent in your churches," and
threatened secession to oppose the ordination of women priests, a handful
of parishes left, but the church stayed together. When the Rev. Barbara
Harris was consecrated as the first woman bishop, more rumblings about
schism were heard, but nothing serious came of it, and now the petite
Bishop Harris sips tea with her fellow Anglican prelates at Lambeth
Palace. When other churches might have fragmented into bitter subsects,
Episcopalians agreed to disagree, and they have preserved the
decentralized unity of the 70 million-member, worldwide Anglican
communion.
Episcopalians handle deep disagreement better than most.
How do they do it? As they never tire of reminding the rest of us, theirs
is a "bridge church." It combines the Reformation's reliance on the Bible
with a strong Catholic emphasis on tradition. It also recognizes reason
and experience as sources of authority. Historically, looking to all of
these elements together has enabled Anglicans to maintain a strong but
supple authority, and to handle conflicting interpretations without
excommunicating anyone.
When one of these pillars is asserted without being balanced by the
others, however, there is always trouble. The opponents of Bishop
Robinson's confirmation who quoted Bible verses during the discussion in
Minneapolis must have known they had a weak case. The same word, usually
translated as "abomination," which in the Hebrew Scriptures is frequently
applied to certain homosexual acts, is also used to condemn eating any
pork product or even touching the skin of a pig. Those who enjoy crisp
bacon with their fried eggs or a game of touch football on the beach
should take notice. The trouble with flinging out texts is that everyone
is selective about what to quote and what not to. Not only did St. Paul
tell women to be silent in the churches, he also told slaves to obey
their masters. Opponents of emancipation and of women's ordination often
cited these verses, but this only illustrates clearly that we need to
rely not just on the biblical text itself but also, as we do in
constitutional law, on the history of its interpretation.
What about tradition? The opponents of Bishop Robinson also cited "the
tradition of the church" to oppose him. But tradition means "handing
over"; it refers not just what has happened in the past, but also to what
is going on now. Christians believe that God continues to be active in
the church and leads his people into new truth. At the Minneapolis
meeting Bishop Robinson said God did not stop revealing his will when the
scriptural canon was closed. This is an insight drawn from the "Catholic"
side of the Episcopal heritage. It was brilliantly articulated in the
19th century by John Henry Newman, an Anglican who became a Roman
Catholic, in his celebrated work "An Essay on the Development of
Christian Doctrine." Newman believed that the truths imbedded in biblical
doctrines only gradually come to light over the centuries as the church
faced new challenges. The farewell message of an earlier Pastor Robinson,
as he sent the Pilgrim fathers (who were of course Anglicans), off for
the new world were, "Remember, God has yet new light and truth to break
forth from his holy word." It is a sound insight. Episcopalians, like
most Christians, are Trinitarians. They believe the Divine Spirit, which
guides the church today, is just as divine as the Father and the Son.
Consequently, the living tradition of the church, when taken in tandem
with the Bible and with past tradition, must also be recognized as a
valid expression of authority.
Reason also has a role to play, although never on its own. It must always
be guided and corrected by Scripture and tradition. It is clear to any
reasonable person today, for example, that when the biblical prohibitions
against non-reproductive sex were first enunciated, the population
problem was the reverse of what it is today. Most children died in
infancy, plagues and natural disasters struck frequently, and there was
always the possibility that the tribe itself could perish. Every drop of
semen had to be directed toward replenishing the race. This is hardly our
issue today.
As for experience, another pillar of authority, all we have to do is look
around us. In the last decades many gay and lesbian people, including the
Christians among them, no longer feel they have to pretend or
dissimulate. They are now part of our lives. They fix our TV's, sit in
the halls of Congress, teach in our schools and colleges and write the
books we read. The vast majority of them shun the gay demimonde. They are
too busy doing cancer research and practicing their cellos. In most of
these fields they can rise to whatever level their ability and dedication
permit. Most of us would prefer to be in the hands of a skilled gay brain
surgeon or airline pilot rather than be left to the mercy of a straight
one who is just learning the ropes. Luckily we are spared that choice
today. Should the church remain the only exception to what we experience
and appreciate every day in the other areas of or lives?
For years now many local churches of different denominations have
identified themselves as "open and welcoming" congregations. What they
all report is that after an initial flurry, soon gay and lesbian members
simply attend communion, sing in the choir, present their adopted
children for baptism, sign up for spiritual retreats, staff the food
pantry and attend Bible study and prayer groups. They do not like to be
singled out as different, nor do they want to belong to a "gay church."
They want to be treated with dignity and respect, as we all do, while
they try to meet their own spiritual needs and follow the teachings of
Jesus (who never uttered a syllable about homosexuality) to care for the
wounded, feed the hungry and show compassion to the brokenhearted.
Several other denominations have been stalling for years on the status of
gay Christians in the church. Should they be welcomed at all, or barred
at the door? Should they be content with second-class citizenship and
excluded from leadership? Should we go back to pretending they are not
there at all when everyone knows they are? We as Christians need to get
past this enervating debate so that we can move on to other pressing
issues that require the churches' attention, such as the growing gap
between the rich and the poor -- about which Jesus did have something
very clear to say.
I am not an Episcopalian, but I commend that church for the deliberate
way it proceeded to come to a decision about the nagging questions that
have paralyzed so many other churches. The rest of us have been set a
good example.
Mr. Cox, Hollis Professor of Divinity at Harvard, is the author of
"Common Prayers: Faith, Family and a Christian's Journey Through the
Jewish Year" (Mariner, 2002).
© Copyright 2003 The Wall Street Journal